Getting Over Him: A Twelve Step Program
by AllIWannaDo
Summary: Getting Over James: A Twelve Step Program. It's as simple as that, says Lily following her breakup with James. But is getting over her one true love as easy as she thinks? (Improves after the first chapter! Rating changed as a precaution.)
1. Step 1: Admit the problem

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot belongs to me.

_I, Lily Evans, have a problem._

_What, you didn't actually think that I would reveal the details of my problem, did you?_

_You expect too much of me._

…

_FINE. James Potter, all right? JAMES BLOODY POTTER._

_The bane of my existence. The one boy that I will always hate. And love just as much._

Lily surveyed the words before her with disgust.

Exactly three months had passed since James Potter and Lily Evans, the most infamous "Will they? Won't they?" couple ever to pass through Hogwarts, had parted ways.

And yet, she still remembered it like it was yesterday, right down to the very last detail. The look on James' face. The ache of her regret. The sensation of his lips against her forehead as he uttered a final goodbye…

It was unfortunate that she remembered these things so clearly, and sometimes she wished she didn't…but she did.

She added the word "pathetic" to her self-deprecating rant.

Everyone knew that acknowledging a problem was the first step toward overcoming it. But Lily was not entirely sure that she could solve her problem. In fact, lately she had begun to wonder whether _she _was the problem. For if she truly hated James Potter, and would not hesitate to admit it, she hated herself even more. She had given her heart to the one boy she always knew would leave it broken. And she had let him keep it. It was killing her inside.

Scowling, she folded the paper roughly and shoved it beneath her pillow, glancing quickly at the sleeping forms of her roommates. They remained motionless, their breathing calm and steady. That was a relief. As usual, Lily was the only one awake, alone in her depression. She closed her eyes and prayed silently for sleep to overtake her. She knew it would; it was merely a question of _when_. Any moment now. She fluffed her pillow. She rolled onto her right side, then her left. She fiddled with her wand, and even counted cracks in the ceiling. It had to be after midnight, at least, and still sleep continued to evade her. Lily wanted to scream and storm the boys' dormitory with an army of hippogriffs and chocolate frogs (a years' supply of hair gel might also be helpful, considering the recipient). _Loudly._ Biting her tongue, she slipped into her robe and silently exited the room, in search of a place to vent her frustrations.

The common room was eerily quiet. As she descended the staircase, Lily noticed a fifth year asleep in the armchair nearest the fire, an OWL practice booklet open in her lap. She wondered briefly if she should wake her, but decided against it, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere too much to risk disturbing it. She was almost tempted to lie down on the couch, in the hope that the warmth of the fire would ease her nerves a bit, when she remembered the purpose of her little midnight excursion. James Potter. He was the reason for her sleepless nights. And for that he would pay.

Taking a long, steadying breath, Lily Evans thundered up the stairs and into the boys' dormitories. She stopped at the room belonging to the marauders. Her hand shook when she raised it to knock.

Her resolve was firm. James Potter was a…one time he…well, it was late, and Lily was having some difficulty articulating her thoughts. But she knew she loathed him with every fiber of her being. The dull ache in her chest was proof enough. And she wanted him to know it too. Didn't she?

Suddenly Lily wasn't so sure after all.

Before she could muster the courage to knock, or turn back, the door swung open with a bang.

Lily gulped. Standing in the doorway was a very confused Sirius, fully dressed and clutching an old, worn piece of parchment. He blushed at the sight of her, shoving the parchment behind his back.

"Evans?" he whispered cautiously.

"H-hullo, Sirius," she managed. She tried to keep calm. At least she hadn't come face-to-face with James. "Nice night, isn't it?"

He nodded, then, "Oy, Prongsie! You'll never guess who - !"

"Shut up, you great git!" Lily gasped, pulling Sirius into the hallway with her. He stumbled forward, knocking into her. In spite of everything, Lily couldn't help the smile that crept across her lips; most girls would kill to find themselves pinned to the floor by the self-proclaimed Gryffindor Heartthrob, Sirius Black. Too bad she wasn't interested. Still, she made a mental note of the situation; maybe she could give free consultations. "How To Get an Unsuspecting Sirius Black in a Compromising Position." The name needed work. Still, the thought made her giggle. She was the last person on the face of the earth with the authority to dispense relationship advice.

Sirius, presumably on his way to a midnight snogging session, mistook her giggle for one of arousal rather than amusement. "Uh. No offense, Evans, you're real pretty and all, but – umm – considering your history with Prongs-."

"Ugh. Did you seriously think…?" She couldn't even bear to complete the thought. "Get off me!"

Sirius frowned, but thankfully relented. "As you wish."

He helped her up, and they stood together awkwardly. Lily racked her brain for a fitting alibi. The truth was, she hadn't the faintest idea what she was doing there in the first place, so technically nothing she said could be construed as a lie. Not exactly, anyway. She sighed, twirling her hair in concentration. Finally, Sirius broke the silence.

"So what're you doing up here, anyway, Evans?"

_Oh, crap._ "Umm…well…I was just going to…I wanted to…I thought I should…"

"Pay a visit to dear 'ol Jamesie?" Sirius interrupted, smirking. "See how things were going Post-Meltdown?"

_Yes_. _That's exactly what you were doing. Tell the truth, Lils_. Harsh. Surely her conscience would have realized how much she despised the nickname "Lils." Just for that she would disregard it. Besides…trust Sirius with the truth? Ludicrous! And pointless, really, especially since the whole truth involved such nonsense as fire and large quantities of hair gel…

"No," she snapped instead. "I was taking a stroll. I needed to clear my head. Get some fresh air. You know."

He eyed her suspiciously, but didn't question her explanation. "Gotcha."

"Anyway, I'd best be getting back to my dormitory, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this…erm…incident between us. There's no need to bother anyone else." She put extra emphasis on the word "anyone"; she hoped Sirius would take the hint. "Or give anyone the wrong idea." Lily, however, was more concerned that someone (meaning James) would get the _right _idea than the wrong one.

Sirius didn't seem entirely convinced, but reluctantly agreed to let her presence in the boys' dormitories slide. Lily thanked him, smiling. Her secret was safe with him.

She turned and headed back downstairs to the common room, still mulling over the depths of her own pathetic desperation.

She flopped down on the couch, curling into a ball and hiding her face with a pillow.

What in the world had possessed her?!

_James_.

The answer came to her with a swing of the portrait hole.

Lily blinked, confused. Was he real? Indeed he was. The boy Lily had once considered the truest of all true loves, her soul mate, her better half, standing beside her once more, his eyes widened in shock.

He raked his hands through his hair nervously, dazed, as if he were dreaming. "L-Lily?" he choked.

She sat up a little straighter, her head spinning. She had forgotten how intoxicatingly sweet her name sounded coming from his lips…

_Damn._

"James," she managed to reply coolly. She kept her eyes trained on the fluffy white rabbits perched atop her slippers. She didn't dare look up…or perhaps she couldn't bear it.

He was near enough to touch now, so near that goose pimples rose on her arms. His presence made her anxious…and not in a good way. This was not the first time in three months that she had seen him. On the contrary, Lily had seen James every day since their breakup, even gotten used to seeing him with other girls. It was easier to bear when she reminded herself of how much she hated him, and all the reasons why it hadn't worked between them. But she hadn't been _alone_ with him until now.

Ugh. She had to pull herself together! She wanted to destroy James, make him feel her agony, not melt into a puddle at his feet. Not that it wasn't tempting. A minute more of being in such close proximity and she might have cracked.

That is, until the portrait hole opened once again and out stepped Analiese Minnow, wearing a short, slinky nightie, her blonde pigtails bobbing merrily. In her arms was a carton of ice cream, nearly empty. The flavor was cookies n' cream, a favorite of Lily's. She cringed, watching as Analiese licked her lips flirtatiously, a glob of sticky ice cream dangling from her finger.

"And you thought you could outrun me! Didn't I tell you - ?" She froze. "Isn't that your ex-girlfriend?" she wondered instead.

So James had moved on, after all. _Really _moved on. Why had no one told her? And here she was, holding on to the ridiculous notion that someday, perhaps -.

No.

This was the last straw.

"I think I'll be going now," she said to no one in particular.

And with that, she rushed up the stairs and into the safety of her dormitory, soundlessly.

She felt like such a fool; she couldn't even cry.

Her heart struggled with an overwhelming mix of emotions: anger, disappointment, and…something else she wouldn't mention.

Inhaling deeply, she fell into bed and bound the curtains tightly around her, overturning her pillow. Its contents spilled onto the bed. A candy wrapper, an old photograph of her parents, a Christmas card…and one wrinkled, tearstained piece of parchment.

She found a pen in the rubble and gently unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases.

_Alice was right. I'm not over James…but I will be. I HAVE TO BE, understand?_

_Getting Over James: A 12-Step Program._

_It's as simple as that._

A/N: Hey ya'll! I've been toying with this idea for a while now, but wasn't sure how it would be received. I have the story basically mapped out from here, so I wouldn't abandon it the way I did my Cho fic. The only question now is whether to continue the story in first or third person. Any suggestions? Oh, and also, if I do manage to post the entire story before the end of summer, an incredible feat (for me, anyway), I may come back and edit individual chapters at some point. So don't be alarmed if the fic should get deleted temporarily in the future. I'm a perfectionist through and through.

REVIEWS ARE, AS ALWAYS, APPRECIATED &/OR RECIPROCATED! (I will even reply to them upon request!)

Love,

AllIWannaDo


	2. Step 2: Wallow

Lily awoke the next morning with an odd heaviness on her heart. It was different than the usual ache, more crippling and to the point, which explained her sudden inability to move. She sat up slowly and glanced at her watch. It was six A.M. This gave her another hour before breakfast. She thought of her long list of obligations, realizing immediately that she still hadn't started on her Potions essay. Perhaps she could use the extra time…Sleep? Who needed it? Four hours of dreamless sleep was more than enough in her book. Besides, it was Friday, she remembered with a smile. The weekend would give her plenty of time to rest up. She hadn't had any plans in…well…a while.

She reached for her schoolbag, noticing a piece of parchment on her lap. A record of last night's events. Lily scoffed, eager to erase the memory of her own pathetic actions. What was the memory charm again? Obliviate? She wasn't sure. Still, she conjured a quill and wrote, in a quick, messy scrawl:

&&&

_A 12-step program, huh? Ingenious! I s'pose it's true that I do my best thinking under pressure (or rather, extreme sleep deprivation)._

_12 steps…12 steps…12 steps…_

_Now if only I could actually come up with 12 steps that will be effective in curing me of my addiction to James Potter._

_Honestly, I'm not very optimistic; I still don't believe it's possible._

_I may need serious help. Would it be too early to consider checking myself into St. Mungo's? I've done volunteer work there in the past. The residents always seemed to enjoy my company, and I know the Healers appreciate my help. I'm sure I'd be quite happy there._

_Oh…who am I even kidding?_

_I'm going to wake Alice and see what she thinks of the situation._

&&&

"Don't you dare!" Alice said a few minutes later, in response to Lily's suggestion that she check into St. Mungo's. "I'd miss you too much."

"Enough to keep me from moving on with my life?"

Alice sighed. "C'mon, Lily. I love you, and James is a good bloke, but frankly I think you're both being rather silly. It's obvious you still love each other; why not just get back together?"

"Because." Lily sucked in a breath. It isn't Alice's fault, she reminded herself. She couldn't know about…Analiese Minnow. "He has a girlfriend…and no, I don't mean me."

"WHAT?" Alice looked scandalized. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure!" Lily yelled, forgetting the early hour. To her right, Dorcas Meadowes snorted in her sleep. Lily reluctantly lowered her voice. "I saw them together, last night, in the common room. James Potter and Analiese Minnow, half-naked, with my favorite ice cream - !"

"Oh, her?" Alice interrupted, waving a hand impatiently. "That's nothing."

"Are you saying you knew about this?!"

"Lily -."

"Oh, so what? So she knew about it. Big deal. We all knew about it. Did you honestly expect us to tell you in your current state of mind?" Dorcas snapped, sitting up in bed.

"Good morning to you, too." Lily mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She was in no mood for Dorcas' foul attitude. (Dorcas wasn't always so cruel; she just wasn't a morning person.) She was, however, in the mood to apologize to Alice. That is, provided Alice accepted said apology, and agreed to give Lily some much-needed advice. For if it was advice Lily wanted, advice she would get. Alice was, after all, well-known as the most understanding of the trio.

Dorcas raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "No witty remarks? That's new."

She crossed the room to her dresser, examining her reflection with a critical eye. She mumbled something about "under-eye circles" and "freckles" before quickly casting a concealment charm and heading toward the bathroom door sleepily. Lily waited until Dorcas was out of earshot to address Alice. According to her watch, it was now a quarter after six; that gave her at least until seven. Dorcas loved to hog the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Alice," Lily said, sighing. She buried her face in her hands. If she wanted sympathy, she had to make it good. "I just…when I saw them together…it affected me more than I'd care to admit."

It took Lily great effort to keep from gagging. The whole conversation reminded her of one of those cheesy, badly written after-school specials she often watched during the summer holidays. But Alice didn't know this; her speech had its desired effect.

Alice smiled consolingly, putting an arm around Lily. "I know you miss James. But you've got to understand that Analiese means nothing to him; I know that for a fact. I've seen them together, too, and the way he looks at her can't even compare with the way he looks at you, even now."

Lily considered Alice's assessment of the James-Analiese relationship carefully, wondering if she could trust it. After all, Alice was in love…with Frank Longbottom, no less!; she saw everything through rose-colored lenses.

Dorcas answered the question for her. "Quit getting her hopes up! Whatever else he is, James Potter is definitely no saint. I reckon he's had a bit of fun with Miss Minnow." She grinned, swinging her hips wildly in imitation of the so-called vixen. Lily frowned at the sudden change in Dorcas; when had she had time to take a shower? And since when was she so insanely chipper? Alice rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at her.

She dodged it, taking a seat beside Lily on the bed.

"That was fast." Lily also noted Dorcas' apparent satisfaction with her appearance; it was clear she hadn't rushed. She was already dressed and primped, and it was only…oh…why even bother checking the time? Dorcas was ready before seven. That alone was a significant event.

Dorcas shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, well."

"Yeah, yeah, you're amazing. We are all in awe of your brilliance and humbled by your presence. Now back to the topic at hand…"

"Which is…?" Dorcas asked, confused. Alice rarely took that tone with Dorcas, or Lily, or anyone for that matter.

Alice shook her head. "James and Analiese, you prat. Their so-called 'relationship.' Sure, they're having fun, but that's all it is."

Dorcas smiled knowingly. "If you say so, Al."

Alice opened her mouth to retaliate, but Lily silenced her with a flick of the wrist. "Regardless. I'm tired of laying in wait like the sap that I am; it's time I got on with my life. And I was hoping you lot would help me."

"Or rather, you were hoping Alice would help you, and I butted in as usual."

Lily stuck her tongue at Dorcas. "Exactly."

"Well I'm in. I, for one, think our Lils could do better. Much better," Dorcas said seriously. Dorcas had always hated James; no one quite knew why, but Lily had her suspicions. Let's just say that rejection didn't sit well with Dorcas.

"For the last time, stop calling me that!" Lily fumed. "But thanks…I think. Alice?"

She waited while the brunette collected her thoughts. She knew Alice had her own reservations about love. She had spent the better part of her life secretly rooting for James and Lily, putting a lot of faith in their status as "soulmates," even in the midst of James' immature pranks and Lily's angry rants. Could she really sabotage everything? Lily was sure she would; the girl was loyal to a fault. It was part of what made her friendship so valuable, and so essential to Lily's survival at Hogwarts. Plus, she was her best friend, and she loved her dearly.

Okay, that was way too many Hallmark moments for one twenty-four-hour period, Lily thought. (Dorcas probably would have agreed.)

Finally, Alice gave in. "I'm in, too, as long as you're sure."

"I am," Lily said, without hesitation.

"Okay, then."

&&&

It took time and much debate before the girls decided on an effective course of action. Both Alice and Dorcas agreed that dividing the process into twelve steps was a genius idea, Lily was pleased to hear, and that the first step should involve admitting the problem. They were crushed when they realized Lily had already completed that step. Dorcas suggested that Lily "accidentally" push James off the astronomy tower, and offered to help bury the evidence, if necessary. Lily laughed, but cringed when Dorcas insisted she was serious. Alice, on the other hand, wanted Lily to start small. She urged Lily to keep busy and gradually learn to interact with James again, until at last she won back his friendship. Lily thought that perhaps this was a step in the wrong direction. She didn't want to be "just friends" with James any more than she wanted to push him off a building. More than anything, she wanted to prove to herself, and the rest of the world that she could exist without him. She was still a complete person. Alice was disappointed, but did not argue the point further. (Lily suspected that Alice secretly continued to hope that she and James would reconcile. Ha. As if.) Eventually, Lily decided to leave the steps open for interpretation. She promised the girls that she would take their suggestions into consideration, hoping it was enough to appease them. But there was no room for complaints. It was already eight o' clock. Classes started soon.

Lily stole a longing glance at her untidy bed. She thought of her Potions essay, and the monotony of life in general. Surely she would allow herself one measly day off. She could fake sickness easily, and felt fairly justified in doing so. What could it hurt, anyway? She had no desire to see James after last night, nor did she have the nerve to attend class in her pajamas. People would know immediately what must have happened, and she didn't want their pity, especially since it was her own fault for being so stupid. They would still talk, she knew, but at least she wouldn't have to face the gossip until Monday. That gave her sufficient time to prepare. She had been meaning to fine-tune her reactions to the mockery and fake sympathy that had followed her since the breakup.

"I think I'm staying in today," Lily announced, crawling back into bed happily.

Alice frowned. "You sure? We've got an essay due in Potions today. Slughorn might find your absence suspicious or something."

Across the room, Dorcas snorted into her cup of coffee. Obviously Lily wasn't the only one who saw the absurdity in Alice's comment. Though she did wonder why Dorcas was drinking coffee…she had a strong aversion to caffeine products, even soda.

She shook her head, remembering Dorcas' previous hyper behavior. Perhaps there was a connection…had Dorcas become a coffee fiend? Or had everyone simply gone mad recently? "Are you kidding? The man worships the ground that I walk on. He won't suspect a thing."

Alice bit her lip in concentration.

"She's right, you know," Dorcas assured her, taking another swig of coffee.

What the hell?

"Oh, all right," Alice said, giving up. "Though I don't think wallowing will help. Want anything?"

Wallowing? It hadn't even crossed Lily's mind…until now. _Step 2: Wallow_.

It seemed appropriate, though the point was really to rise above her depression, not sink deeper into it.

Oh well.

She couldn't just quit cold turkey.

Besides, a bit of wallowing was healthy, when executed properly.

So it was settled, then. Lily was skipping. She brightened at the thought.

She made a mental note of the supplies she would need. Let's see…Her stomach growled. Okay. Food was definitely her first priority.

"As a matter of fact…yes," Lily smirked, though she knew Alice had meant it as a rhetorical question.

Alice sighed. "What?"

"CHOCOLATE!" Alice recoiled at her outburst, her eyes wide; Dorcas chuckled. Perhaps a bit too overzealous? "And cake and cookies and ice cream and marshmallows and –," She paused, thinking. "Whatever else you can find in the kitchens that contains ridiculous amounts of sugar."

"Erm…sure, I'll see what I can do. Just don't make yourself too sick, okay? And come up for air once in a while."

Dorcas rolled her eyes at Alice's worried tone. "Oh, pipe down." She turned to Lily. "How 'bout some alcohol, Lils? I think I can nab some from Filch's private stash. That is, if you're interested," she said with a wink.

Lily decided to ignore the nickname.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Alice practically growled.

"Yes," Dorcas answered calmly. She really was. Lily was surprised Alice hadn't noticed the coffee.

"No, thanks," Lily said, in response to Dorcas' questioning glance. "I'm good."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself, then."

"I'll see you later, okay?" Alice said, her eyes still fixed angrily on Dorcas.

Lily bade them goodbye, and the two girls exited the room in silence, leaving Lily to her thoughts.

She yawned, her eyes closing as she slipped into a delicious slumber…

&&&

_I'm B.O.R.E.D._

_Eating can only provide entertainment for so long._

_And I only just woke up about an hour ago, so there's a good chance the feeling is going to remain. I'm kind of disoriented right now. My head hurts, and I lost my watch, so I don't even know what time it is. It must be past noon, at least, because I awoke to a basket of sweets sitting prettily at the foot of my bed, meaning that Alice must have come by at some point between classes. The basket contained all of the goodies I had requested, including a box of warm butterbeers, which left me wondering at her supplier. It had to be someone willing to risk illness and the possible wrath of McGonagall (if he/she was ever caught sneaking into Hogsmeade). The most likely candidates, of course, are the marauders themselves. I pray it wasn't James…She also left a note saying that she didn't want to wake me earlier, but that she missed me in class, and would return later for another visit. I smiled evilly. Dorcas must be driving her crazy. Yes, I do know it's wrong to wish such hardship on my best friend, but Dorcas is my friend, too, and…well…Alice's reaction to her antics is rather amusing. Like that one time when Dorcas tried to set her up with Lucius Malfoy, or that other time she tried to set her up with Lucius Malfoy, or that other, other time…okay, so you get the idea. Frank was horrified. Poor bloke thought Alice was cheating on him with a future Death Eater. It was hil…awful. Really, really awful, in fact. Nope, not a bit funny. Ahem._

_I'm still bored._

_And more than a little depressed._

_But I am supposed to "wallow" today, so I reckon it's ok._

_So, since this is the last time I won't have to deny my feelings, I confess: I wish James were here with me, instead of off snogging Analiese Minnow, and doing her all sorts of magnificent favors (i.e. midnight snacks in the kitchens). I love him. And, as usual, I hate him as well. The hatred is stronger at the moment. I wish he were here, not because I want him back, but so I could step on his perfect face, and gauge his exquisite hazel eyes out, and just beat him into a bloody pulp. "A bit violent, eh, Evans?" he'd say if he could hear me. "I'm serious, Potter!" I'd snap. But then I'd smile, and he'd pull me onto his lap, and we'd…uhm…snog a bit. Or a lot, depending on my mood. (Most likely the latter.) I'd show him violent, all right. He'd have to grin at that._

_I really hate him._

_Urgh! All right, so maybe I don't hate him as much as I claim. But I do want to hate him, and there was a time when I genuinely did, I swear it. Or at least I believed I did. I do miss those days, when I could profess my undying hatred for James Potter and MEAN IT, without spending hours trying to convince myself of the fact. My love for him was nonexistent; things were loads simpler then._

_I never wanted to find true love. I never wanted a fairy tale ending. The very idea of a piece of my heart belonging to someone else frightened me…and I hated that James gave me reason to embrace my fears. I felt sometimes that I had stepped into a muggle romance novel. James Potter had slowly become my whole world. I felt like I was losing myself to him, our futures now inextricably intertwined, and I couldn't stand it. I just couldn't let it continue. The person I had become scared me. For as much as I longed for him, I longed for myself even more._

_Which is why the bloody boy broke up with me in the first place. I knew it was coming, knew he had noticed the change in me, but I didn't argue with his decision. He was always so sure about his feelings for me. And I…well…I couldn't even tell him I loved him. I pressed on, ignoring the throbbing of my heart, and all the details I was later forced to recall in my dreams. I just wanted to be strong again, but instead I became weaker. He proved me right. He broke my heart. I had always expected it. So why did I suddenly regret not fighting harder? I felt responsible for the failure of our relationship. As I should._

_Now if only the pain would go away…_

_I have no business hating him. Not when I was the one who pushed him away. I couldn't expect him to spend forever pining for me. He's too good for that. It's time we both moved on. I just wish I had moved on first. It might've saved me from feeling so pathetic._

_I love him. I always have, and it wasn't his fault, yet I hated him for it. Maybe I always will. Love him and hate him, I mean. I can try to get over him. But if I don't succeed, at least I can learn to pretend._

_I don't reckon he'd ever take me back._

_Not that I deserve to be taken back._

_And I wish I hated him…just a little… for making me want him back._

_I would only repeat the same mistakes all over again. Yesterday I was ready to give into temptation and fly into his arms (again), and the thought made me so, so happy (ecstatic, really). I thank Analiese Minnow for the reality check. Because it was then that I realized that even after everything, I was still holding tightly to the notion of James and me together, and that's just far too contradictory. Why did I subconsciously sabotage my relationship with James when it's so clear I love him and would give anything to go back? And how can I possibly blame him? I shouldn't. I'm the one who trusted him with my heart, and let him keep it, knowing how easily he could crush it. How easily I could TRICK him into crushing it. It's my fault. The truth is, I can't handle being in love. I'm not meant for it. That's the real issue here. And I know that now._

_I still feel disconnected from myself._

_Where's the old Lily Evans when you need her? Strong, fierce, and independent. The girl who didn't need a boyfriend to attain fulfillment, and refused to give her heart away to anyone, if only to spare herself the disappointment. I'm afraid I've lost her. I thought breaking up with James would force her into reappearance, but it only seemed to drive her farther away. Did she ever exist, or did I imagine her strength? I'm not sure. It's funny. Ha ha ha…_

_So ends my final period of wallowing._

_I wish Alice would come back soon. I ran out of tissues. And, as usual, my face looks absolutely horrid._

&&&

Lily broke off a piece of chocolate, popped it into her mouth, and chased it down with a spoonful of ice cream. Sugar was her new drug of choice. She was finished with her addiction to James Potter.

She was determined to find herself again, to get over James, and to resume hating him (or at least _pretending_ to hate him).

And she knew she would succeed.

&&&

**A/N:** Quite confusing, yes? Don't worry, I thought so, too. I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit depressing, but once I got going, I simply couldn't stop. Please don't hate me for it. I'll try to write something amusing next time...haha.

Thanks to all my reviewers! You guys ROCK! And whoever said James is an idiot, I agree, but if you've read this far, then you know that Lily is a bit of an idiot, as well. ::wink:: KEEP R&R...SO I CAN KEEP UPDATING!

I tried to make this chapter a long one, in case I don't update for a while, and I think I succeeded. I hope ya'll enjoy it! Despite...well...you know.

Oh and I apologize for using the word "hate" so often. I counted; 10 times, I think? It just fit better than "loathe", "despise", "dislike," etc. (IMO)

Oh and for the typos...

K sorry for the book...you can stop reading now.

Love,

AllIWannaDo


	3. Hogsmeade, or Wallow 2

Okay.

_Step 2: Wallow._

Check?

No.

Somehow it just didn't feel complete.

After all, there was more to wallowing than pigging out and feeling sorry for yourself, right?

Lily had always thought so.

She made a quick inventory of all her past relationships, from her first crush in muggle elementary school, to the more recent James Potter fiasco. She didn't remember the mourning period ever lasting this long. One day, at most, or less if she was the one who had ended things. She couldn't remember the last time she was in need of a real pick-me-up. Moving on was the easy part, or at least it had been…before…Of course this time would be different. Hadn't she learned anything in the past twenty minutes she spent pouring her heart out to a piece of parchment? James Potter was her first love. Her only love. Getting over him was a traumatic experience waiting to happen. Her task was a difficult one.

Shocking.

Her life had always been SO SIMPLE!

Lily took a swig of warm butterbeer, pulling her blanket up to her chin. It was beginning to get chilly. Reluctantly, she grabbed her wand and stepped out of bed, shivering when her feet brushed the icy wooden floor. She reached the fireplace and muttered a soft incantation, watching as flames sprung to life at the hearth. Her mood brightened; the aura cast by the firelight was quite pleasant. And yet, as she scrambled back into bed, a thought occurred to her: Why hadn't Dumbledore ever thought to install a heating system? So the purebloods considered it a "muggle luxury," and a waste of time and money. Big deal! Since when was Dumbledore obligated to take orders in his own school? Maybe Lily would bring the subject to his attention at their next meeting (preferably without James). After all, she was Head Girl, and as such had the right to voice her opinions. Dumbledore always seemed to trust her judgment, and she was nothing if not persuasive; she was sure he'd see the validity in her argument. Winters at home were loads more comfortable.

_Home._ Her thoughts lingered on the word, enjoying the feeling it induced, and letting it wash over her. She missed it. Not that Hogwarts wasn't a fine _second_ home. It just wasn't the same sometimes. If she were at home, instead of wasting away in agony at this blasted school, she could watch television, or pick a fight with Petunia, or bake cookies with her mother, or have a snowball fight, or any number of other fulfilling activities. But here, all she could do was sit, and wait impatiently till classes ended and her roommates returned to bombard her with secondhand gossip. So that's what it had come to: she had to depend on others for her fulfillment. How sad.

She crinkled an empty candy wrapper, counting the specks of white on her fingernails. What were those, anyhow? Calcium, maybe? She must have asked her doctor at some point during her childhood. Now if only she could remember what his answer had been...

Had anyone ever died from boredom? She didn't think so, but kept the possibility in mind, anyway. At least death might provide temporary entertainment.

She couldn't believe she had just contemplated death as a means of entertainment.

This was BAD.

She hoped classes were nearly over.

She tried to distract herself while she waited.

In a way that did not, under any circumstances, involve mourning the loss of a certain James Potter.

He was not all that consumed her thoughts…or so she told herself.

She searched for her watch. (It was nowhere to be found.)

She practiced shouting "I hate you, James Potter!" and stomping away in a huff.

She stole a stack of muggle romance novels from underneath Alice's bed, and read the first and last page of each. But they were all the same, and the discovery only made her angrier. Angsty beginning, happy ending. Characters annoying and one-dimensional (yet supposedly drop-dead "sexy"). Setting described as an "exotic, romantic locale" littered with palm trees and girls with sun-kissed blonde hair and boys with amazing tans and athletic ability. Dialogue plagiarized from every other book of the same genre. Sex scenes…ugh…cringe-worthy. Plot laughably predictable. Story painted with a complete disregard for reality whatsoever…and oh!, the cover art…Lily could have gone on, but quit for the sake of preserving her sanity. No wonder Alice had unrealistic notions of love! Never again, she promised herself, as she tucked the novels – or "literary trash," as she preferred to call them – away.

She finished the last of the cookies' n cream, and moved on to butter pecan ice cream.

She wrote a lengthy letter to her parents, and sealed it for delivery.

She fed her cat and used a spell to make his fur a glossier shade of ginger.

She painted each of her ten fingernails a different color (yes, without magic), basking in the disappearance of the white specks, and wiggled them in front of her face.

And yes, when she grew desperate enough, she even tried crying over a photograph of James. She chose a particularly nice one for the occasion, her favorite: she and James sitting by the lake just before the start of summer holidays, the giant squid lounging in the background, as the couple cuddled and cooed at the benign creature. Once in a while, the Photo-James would smile his breathtaking smile at her, making her heart ache so painfully she almost lost the ability to breathe. It reminded her of the way he always used to look at her (even before the beginning of their relationship), his eyes so full of love, and certainty…okay, so the sentiment was definitely there. Still, her tear ducts wouldn't cooperate, and the attempt only succeeded in giving her a headache. Lily understood; her eyes had been severely maltreated lately.

She sighed, accepting the failure, and set to work on coming up with alternate methods of burying her conflicted emotions.

&&&

Finally, just when Lily's creativity was spent, Dorcas ambled into the room with Alice on her heels…and _another _cup of coffee in hand!

Lily pretended not to notice.

"Dorcas!" Lily squealed, embracing the girl with such fervor that she nearly spilled her coffee.

"Someone's desperate for attention, I think, " Dorcas told Alice, laughing.

Alice smiled halfheartedly. "What's wrong?" Lily asked, noticing Alice's glum expression, and mentally preparing herself for the bad news.

"Hogsmeade's been cancelled; the trip is rescheduled for two weeks from tomorrow."

Lily frowned. Personally, she hadn't even been aware of the trip, nor had she anticipated it. Maybe she should check the bulletin board more often.

"I'm sorry?" Lily said dumbly.

"You didn't know about it, did you?"

"No," she admitted.

Alice sighed. "I wanted to do some holiday shopping before I forgot…and now…" she trailed off, staring at the ceiling.

"Oh, you have weeks for that. It's only November," Dorcas assured her, checking herself in the mirror. She set her coffee down and reached for her hairbrush, wincing slightly as she eased through the tangles in her unruly ebony hair. "She's been like this all day – _mopey_." Her mouth twitched; apparently she shared Lily's strong dislike of the art. "It's bloody annoying. It's like I told you, Al, I can get you into Hogsmeade _anytime you want_. It's real easy to sneak out once you've got the hang of it."

Alice continued her staring contest with the ceiling. It was obvious she wasn't going to risk sneaking out of school, and normally, Lily would have echoed her decision. She would trust Dorcas with her life, but not the future of her magical education. No, never that; it was too important to her. Still, the idea intrigued her. Dorcas did have a point. Those brainless marauders were _always_ sneaking out of Hogwarts in the dead of night, and they never once got caught. So why couldn't she manage the same feat? She could think of no good reason.

Besides, Lily could use a change of scenery. It felt like ages since she had ventured outside the boundaries of Hogwarts. The dim lighting was beginning to annoy her.

"How soon can we leave?" Lily asked quickly, before she lost her nerve.

A burst of adrenaline shot up her arms, warning her of the dangers ahead. She was in uncharted territory now. She shivered; the thought was empowering.

Dorcas shrugged, smiling. "Now, if you like." She pursed her lips, applying a fresh coat of gloss. It was part of her daily routine. Primp, go to class, primp again…and show off.

Lily watched her with envy. Dorcas Meadows, so unlike Lily in her carefree nature, yet startlingly similar in other ways. Lily wanted to be "young, wild, and with a certain disregard for the rules," a phrase the teachers often used to describe Dorcas (and the marauders, come to think of it), too. She was tired of her role as "the responsible one" (though she often shared it with Alice). She was forever missing out on the fun, and she hated it. And now was her chance to rectify that.

Besides, she was sick of wallowing. It was depressing. Of course, that was probably the point, but she honestly didn't care. Playing by the rules was exhausting. Not that breaking them was much better. After all, she broke the rules when she fell in love with James Potter, and look where that had gotten her. She paused, thinking. Never mind that she had failed in her attempts to direct her thoughts away from the subject of her ex. That boy represented quite a few turning points in Lily's life, didn't he? He was like a persistently awful walking metaphor for everything that had or ever would go right or wrong in her life. Bugger. Lily had always suspected the cosmos had it in for her.

Regardless…she was going, and that was final.

And she would definitely not think about James Potter while she was there, even if it was where they had gone on their first date, and had their first kiss, and – never mind the rest. She wouldn't think about him…she swore it.

Forget her past failures; this time, she would succeed.

It was time to move on, and eliminate her urge to wallow for good.

Lily shook herself and turned toward Alice, weighing her reaction. Her expression was blank, guarded. She frowned suspiciously.

"What?" Lily narrowed her eyes at her, annoyed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Are you seriously going along with her?" Alice asked incredulously.

"Sure, why not?"

Dorcas clapped her hands in triumph. "'Atta girl!" Now it was Alice's turn. "You in?"

Dorcas sat and slipped on a pair of boots, unconcerned.

Lily picked at her nail polish, waiting.

"Nah, I don't think so," Alice's voice was calm, her expression blank. "I've got homework, and Frank, and…lots of things."

She hesitated, still staring at Lily as if she'd sprouted a second head. She was hoping it'd knock some sense into her; Lily could tell. And it did…sort of.

Lily's tone softened. She knew Alice was only concerned for her safety; it was nice, actually. "C'mon, Al. It's Friday; homework and Frank can wait till Monday. Besides, we haven't had a girls' night out in a while, and you can still get your shopping done…if you come."

She waited while Alice considered her proposition. She could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She smiled at the thought; it was a much better metaphor than those involving (formerly) arrogant, toerag ex-boyfriends.

That she wasn't supposed to think about anymore.

Damn.

"Okay, okay…I'll come," Alice declared finally, smiling. Lily was grateful for the interruption in her thoughts. "If you're absolutely positive we won't get caught."

"Not a chance," Dorcas promised, raising her right hand with a flourish. "Cross my broomsticks and hope to fly."

&&&

The trio was in Hogsmeade barely an hour later.

They shopped a bit first, humoring Alice as she mulled over what to get Frank (though they both knew he would love anything she bought) for Christmas, and acted indifferent when she wanted their opinion on gifts that coincided suspiciously with those on their personal wish lists. Neither Lily nor Dorcas bought anything, just browsed while Alice worked herself into a "tizzy," as Lily's mother often said. Alice pronounced the trip successful nonetheless, which greatly relieved Lily and Dorcas. They didn't even have to convince her to come to The Three Broomsticks with them afterward for a warm butterbeer and a bite to eat. She walked willingly, struggling under the weight of her many bundles, as the girls chatted merrily beside her. Beneath their feet, flurries of imperfect white snowflakes blanketed the stone sidewalks; it had unknowingly begun to fall during their shopping excursion, and continued harder now, turning their cheeks pink where the frost touched. It was lovely, like a scene from a muggle postcard, or an adaptation of _A Christmas Carol _Lily had once seen on television. They almost missed the pub in their wanderings. Their spirits were so improved, in fact, that they scarcely noticed when Dorcas led them astray.

The trio lingered at the entrance to the pub, grateful for the warmth it provided, but hesitant to lose the feeling of utmost serenity the snow had granted. It was only when a waitress asked them personally to "Get outta the doorway, will ya?" that they dared venture inside. And it was only then, as they found seats near the bar, that Alice and Lily questioned their strange surroundings.

"Umm…Dorcas?" Alice called nervously, averting her gaze from the tall, hooded figure that was winking at her from the bar.

"Yes, Alice?" Dorcas replied cheerfully, giving Alice's admirer the thumbs-down. The message was clear: She wasn't available. The figure shrugged and looked away, turning his attention toward a scantily clad blonde witch near the window.

"Where are we, exactly?"

"Why, it's funny you should ask that, m'dear! We're in a charming little pub called The Flaming Phoenix. It's just like The Three Broomsticks, except with more leniency regarding the drinking age, and _far _more interesting company." She smiled flirtatiously at the proprietor, who grinned in return and motioned her over. "I'll be right back, don't move or talk to anyone," Dorcas said, getting up before Alice could respond. She sighed, her face frightened. Lily examined the place with interest. The atmosphere was inviting, cozy. All around, folks drank and talked animatedly with their neighbors, though some kept to themselves. The pub was clean and well-kept, with few exceptions, including a mysterious green stain to the left of Lily's elbow. At least the color was in season. She could only wonder at the origin of the stain. She stayed focused on the splash of green, but watched Dorcas through the corner of her eye. Alice pretended to shuffle through one of her bags, the color rising in her cheeks. The hooded figure and the blonde witch had left some time ago, Lily noted. She didn't want to think about where they'd gone, or when – _whether_, she corrected herself - they'd return.

After an eternity of sitting in silence, too out of sorts to mingle, Dorcas was back with their drinks. She sat and took a sip of hers, and Lily followed suit. It was red and sugary, and clung to her insides on the way down. Alice watched her closely as she drank it, her expression pinched with distaste, probably wondering about the contents of her own drink. Lily thought it best not to ask.

Alice was bolder. "Okay, first of all, I'll ignore the fact that you clearly belong in St. Mungo's…for now…and the fact that you've obviously been here before. Don't tell me; I don't want to know a _thing_. Except…" She paused, tipping her glass slightly to get a closer look at the sticky mess. "…is there alcohol in these drinks?"

Her drink fizzed in response. Perhaps she had made it angry? By the looks of it, alcohol was the least of their worries.

Dorcas looked wounded. "I'm surprised at you, Al. Really, I'm shocked. Don't you know me at all?"

Her words caught Alice off-guard for a moment. Lily, too, was confused. She was sure these drinks contained alcohol; no sober person would willingly digest the icky red fluid. Well, she had, but that was before she'd examined the drink more carefully. Now she was sorry she'd tried it. And Dorcas had, but Dorcas was…well…Dorcas. She hardly met the standards of a sober individual in comparison with the rest of the magical population.

"So," Alice began cautiously, glancing at Lily for support. "These drinks are perfectly legal?"

"Well." Dorcas' blue eyes sparkled in the dim light. "I didn't say that…exactly, but…"

She frowned at Alice's scared expression. "Anyway…how 'bout a toast to cheer you up?" She held her glass high, ignoring the bubbly protests of the liquid within.

Lily continued to eye her drink with aversion. Nope. Not another sip.

Dorcas sighed. "Okay, let's put it this way: If I told you what was in it, you wouldn't drink it." She paused thoughtfully, chuckling. "Neither would I, come to think of it. Everyone knows how brilliant Lils is at Potions. She could probably identify the side effects of these ingredients a mile away. And that'd only spoil everything because, quite frankly, I don't want to know. No one wants to _prevent_ a hangover." Alice rolled her eyes at this, but Dorcas ignored the gesture. "Besides…not knowing is half the fun, right?" she added hopefully.

"No…really, it isn't," Alice scowled, her jaw clenched. No one was going to pressure _her _into drinking.

Lily considered her options more carefully. She could take the smart, responsible route and refuse the drink, and hightail it out of there before any further damage was done; it was a very Lily-esque course of action. Or, she could take a risk and down it in one gulp, with the knowledge that she would probably end up nursing her first hangover the next morning. It was a stupid thing to do, clearly, and unnecessarily reckless; typical Dorcas-style behavior, from what Lily had observed. Her mind ran through all the negative consequences her actions might bring, each one worse than the last. Yet, none of these scenarios seemed a good enough reason to keep her thoughts clear. Hadn't she longed to be more like Dorcas, to forget the past and live in the moment, just this once? Maybe behaving recklessly wasn't the way to do it; somewhere deep down she must have known that. And yet, somehow, she didn't care, because at that moment, all she wanted was to feel alive, and whole again, without the memory of her relationship with James Potter looming over her. Wasn't that the point? She wanted to be _Lily Evans – _plain, old Lily Evans – not the Lily Evans whose name would forever be associated with James. Young, alive, and free. No strings attached. Just good, semi-dirty fun.

Lily closed her eyes and clinked her glass against Dorcas', letting its contents ooze into her waiting mouth. "To us – you and me – and moving on," she said, clearly indicating the meaning behind her words.

And to forgetting the past, she added silently. 

Dorcas smiled sadly (or did she just imagine it?), understanding Lily's unspoken words. "To moving on," she said, then added, "And starting over."

"Whoop-de-doo," Alice said sarcastically, whistling as the girls downed the remaining globs of red.

And, predictably, Lily's stuck on the way down.

&&&

The sticky fluid was strangely addictive the second, third, and fourth times it went down.

_STICKY! _Lily snorted. "That's my new favorite word," she told the green stain on the table.

She raised her head slowly. The atmosphere in the pub had begun to pick up. All around her, people danced and flirted, laughed and drank, music blaring from a set of unseen speakers. The lights blinked, the room alive with all sorts of fantastical shapes and colors. And the ceiling, it was…_moving._ How charming! Was it bewitched? Lily looked up, watching the shadows of the dancers swaying to and fro on the ceiling, their bodies at one with the music. She almost wanted to join them.

"No thanks," came Alice's voice from beside her. "I bought my own, see?"

She smiled, indicating her full glass. The stranger shrugged and sauntered away, bumping into Dorcas on the way, who had only just managed to disentangle herself from her dance partner. She giggled and rammed into Alice.

"He's cute." She nudged Alice, nodding her approval.

Alice frowned. "I see your standards aren't very high," she said, rolling her eyes.

Dorcas cackled maniacally, in perfect imitation of the stereotypical "witch." "I take offense to that." She took another swig of her drink.

"Want me to sock her for ya?" Lily chimed in, balling her fists.

She turned to Lily, brightening. "No, thanks, Lils…hehe, you look all _loopy._" She slashed the air with her finger, tracing Lily's outline. "Loony, Loopy Lily!"

Lily considered the nickname, exploding in a fit of giggles. "She's so funny! Isn't she funny, Al?" Alice shrugged; she obviously didn't think so. Killjoy! "Dorcas…D-D-D-D-Dorky Dorcas!"

"You're mean," Dorcas pouted, but they laughed and clinked glasses.

"Can we g – OH NO," Alice said, burying her face in her hands. "Oh no, oh no, oh no…"

"What?" Lily asked, swallowing. She followed Alice's gaze to the entrance, where two gangly, fresh-faced boys in long black cloaks had just arrived. Two boys that bore a striking resemblance to Sirius Black and James Potter. They greeted the waitress and clumsily took their seats, a mere table away from the one containing Lily and her friends. Alice blushed and slid down in her chair, but the boys appeared not to have seen them. Not yet.

"So, Jamesie, I presume you'll have the usual?" Sirius asked in a very formal tone.

"Certainly, my good man," James replied, equally business-like. "And if you don't mind, make it a double…"

"Be right back." Sirius grinned, already turning on his legendary charm.

Lily was amused. What made them decide to come to a pub? They already seemed mildly drunk.

Lily watched as Sirius casually made his way toward the bar. "All right there, Al? How's the wife and kids? Jamesie and I will have our usual…"

Lily didn't wait for his response. "Alice!" she hissed, poking her roughly in the arm. "The bartender stole your name!"

She looked genuinely curious for a moment. "Really? That bloke's name is Alice?"

"No, you twit!" Dorcas interrupted, which sent both girls into hysterics once again.

"Shh! Keep it down!" Alice advised, shaking her head. She glanced nervously at James, but he wasn't paying attention to them. He sat idly watching the dancers, contemplative.

Sirius returned, setting the drinks on the table with a flourish. James regained his usual roguish grin. "To us," he toasted, his drink sloshing. "The two best-looking blokes at Hogwarts!"

"Amen!" James cheered, gulping down the amber liquid with no trouble.

"Hey! Now they took our toast, too…" Lily began, but Alice silenced her quickly.

"Shut up, Lily! Do you want them to hear us?"

"Who cares?"

Lily posed the question first to Alice, then to herself. Who cares?The answer came easily to her. _I don't. _And she didn't, truly she didn't. She should have cared a great deal, she knew. Why? _James Potter_. Why was he so important, exactly? She recalled the name immediately, connected it with his appearance. She knew that she'd always fancied him, even against her better judgment, and that they'd recently dated. She remembered that he had once loved her, and she may have even loved him. And she understood the pain that she had felt, mere hours earlier, at the thought of their parting. Funny. He had no effect on her now. The sight of him no longer irritated the gaping hole in her chest. Perhaps it had finally healed itself. Had she moved on, then? Lily shrugged, a single line of thought penetrating the loud whirring in her head as years of blurred memories fought for her attention: _And to forgetting the past…_Time, she thought. Only time would bring her clarity.

"I don't care," Dorcas said, echoing Lily's thoughts, as usual. "I'll be damned if I let those blokes ruin _my _evening. We were here first, weren't we?" Lily nodded.

Alice sighed. Clearly, her advice wasn't needed.

Lily listened hard, catching a snippet of conversation from the table beside hers.

"…Speaking of which, why didn't you bring our Miss Minnow on this charming little outing?" Sirius said, already halfway through his second drink.

James laughed; the sound gave Lily shivers. "Because, Padfoot, I came here to get _away _from her."

Sirius looked confused. "Well I dunno, Prongs, you didn't seem too keen to get away last night," he winked.

"Obviously. But she's just so…_clingy_. I mean, she's good-looking enough and all that, but she's just not-."

"_Her_," Sirius finished, chewing on a chunk of ice.

_Her? _Her who? Lily wondered.

James tipped his bottle slightly, only half-smiling. "Maybe. I reckon we'll never know. Which is why, mate, I come here to drown my sorrows."

"Really? I thought it was because you'd just admitted to manipulating the feelings of a perfectly nice girl in exchange for a good snog."

So Sirius had a conscience, after all, eh? Lily was impressed.

James frowned, almost taking him seriously. "Easy on the firewhiskey there, Pad."

"Right," he grinned, taking a swig.

There was a brief pause, during which time Lily pondered the exact color of James Potter's eyes…that is, until he blinked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Maybe we should head back," James suggested.

"As you wish," Sirius said. "But first…one for the road, Al, eh?"

They were leaving? So soon? "Wait!" Lily stood before Alice could protest. "Don't go!"

"Oh, Lily." Alice shook her head, frowning.

"Way to go, Lils!" Dorcas punched a fist in the air.

James turned, scanning the area for the source of the noise. He seemed bewildered. Finally, his eyes settled on Lily, smiling up at him from her cozy little corner. His expression changed upon seeing her. He waved a hand in front of his face, as if checking his awareness. He stood, too, motioning toward Sirius.

"Padfoot, mate?"

"Prongs?" Sirius answered, handing James a bottle of clear, amber liquid.

He pointed. "Am I…erm…what I mean to say is…am I…imagining her standing there?"

"Sirius' eyes widened. "If you are, then I am…and for your sake, let's hope not."

"Right, then." He nodded, decisive. "Shall we?"

"No choice."

They made their way over carefully, their eyes traveling over each of the girls in turn. James' eyes lingered on Lily the longest, she noticed, but he did not address her. An awkward silence befell the group. No one knew quite what to say. The silence was broken by Dorcas, who looked in need of a fresh supply of…erm…whatever it was they were consuming.

"All right there, gents? Care to join me for a drink?" she asked merrily, jumping up. She started to move toward the bar, but swayed unsteadily on her feet; Sirius caught her, and she clutched his arm for support. Her behavior appeared to amuse him. He put his arm around her and helped her into a seat at the bar, where they ordered a fresh round of drinks.

The remaining three remained the picture of awkwardness. Lily looked at James, his mouth lop-sided as he stared at her curiously, then at Alice, her face hidden beneath a curtain of hair, and laughed. Her sides ached with the effort. She pointed a finger at James. "Psst…Allie…look there!"

"What?" Alice asked, slowly uncovering her eyes.

"That's my ex-boyfriend!" Lily giggled, grinning fondly at her newest pet. "Isn't he cute?"

James blushed. Alice spoke carefully. "Umm…I s'pose so, Lily…" she stammered. "But I'm in a relationship, so I really shouldn't say."

Lily pictured Frank's reaction to Alice's stammering. She hardly expected he would _Avada Kedavra _James on the spot in a fit of jealousy. She pounded her fist against the table, giggling madly at the thought.

"Erm…is she quite all right?" James asked Alice, his eyebrows raised.

"Dandy," Alice said, turning on him. Her voice was dripping in sarcasm.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," Lily pouted, hypocritically. James ran a hand through his hopelessly messy hair, concerned. Lily blinked and looked away, in search of a distraction. Her eyes fell on her drink. A bubble popped in the depths of the red, spraying bits of pink everywhere. "Here," she insisted, forcing the drink into his hands. "You'll feel better."

"Erm…no thanks." He handed the drink to Alice, who held it with just her fingertips.

Lily tried again to capture James' attention. "Dance? You. Me."

Okay, so her communication skills were a bit…erm…lacking. Big deal.

He shrugged. "Sure."

She giggled and pulled him onto the dance floor, leaving Alice to fend for herself and Dorcas at the bar with Sirius.

He stopped her when they reached the dance floor. "What're you doing here, Lily?" he asked seriously. "I don't think I've ever seen you anywhere near here." His eyes bored into her, urging her to explain herself.

"Dancing," Lily answered confidently. She looked up, sea green finding liquid malt. It was the truth. She _was_ dancing. He couldn't deny that. Was there more going on beneath the surface? Maybe. Lily's motives puzzled even her. She didn't know why she had stopped James from leaving, or why she had asked him to dance. She felt as if she were falling through a vacuum, her mind absent of all meaning. Everything moved in slow motion – sights, sounds, and thoughts distorted by the time she processed them. She was dizzy, the lights blurring her vision, and nothing made sense. Especially not her attraction to James. All she knew was that she wanted – _needed _– to be near him. She needed to hear his voice, to touch him, to dance. It was a desire too strong to suppress.

"Dancing," James repeated, his forehead creasing. "Is that right?

"Yes." She tried to keep her voice even.

"Okay, fine. You're dancing. But why are you dancing with _me_? And here, of all places? I thought after last night you'd be -."

"I'd be what?" she demanded, her temper beginning to flare. "Broken? Too emotionally damaged to function at the thought of you with someone else?"

"I-I don't know."

She pressed on. "Do you honestly think I'm that _weak_?"

"No. I think you're that human."

Lily looked away, the emotion in his eyes too much. She held onto James tightly, resting her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music. She missed the warmth of the closeness, and the feeling of security that evaded her now. It made her brave, though she should have been afraid.

"Lily, seriously." He turned her head to face him. "I want to know how you really feel."

"No." She shook her head, fighting back tears.

His voice softened. "Please?"

But she couldn't concentrate on the question, let alone provide an acceptable answer. She was intoxicated, confused, her mind absent of rational thought. Her senses - her one certainty - were on overdrive; it was enough to make her faint.

"At least say _something_, then." He was watching her, she knew.

She struggled for control of herself.

…And lost, as usual.

"Mmm…you smell good," she breathed, dreamily. And he did, like peppermint and firewhiskey, an impossible combination. His heart beat steadily against her cheek. She closed her eyes, counting the beats, matching them to her own…

He sighed, closing his eyes, too. "So do you."

"Want to know a secret?"

One eye opened. "Sure," he said softly.

"I love you." She spoke honestly, effortlessly, with a confidence that had failed her previously. It was funny. Her first time telling James she loved him, and she was under the influence of Unknown Alcoholic Drink # 3.

Lily glanced up, surprised to find James at a loss for words. It didn't make her regret her own. She hadn't expected anything in return. Now if she could just shake that feeling of wanting more. Unless…suddenly, a strange thought entered Lily's mind. For once, without thinking of the consequences, she leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss was slow and tentative at first, and James was hesitant in returning it. Still, it was perfect – sickly sweet, and expressive of everything Lily had tried to deny between them. She felt dizzy when James broke the kiss, the haziness caused by her drinking now intensified. She couldn't speak, or even breathe properly; her lungs burned, air coming in quick gasps. She knew nothing, except that she didn't ever want to lose the feeling of him – the taste of him on her lips, his hands in her hair, the musty smell of their surroundings – all things she tried to commit to memory. But it was no use; it was already slipping away…

"Lily," He traced the outline of her face his fingertips, sighing. She closed her eyes again, fearing the worst. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Suddenly, he frowned, dropping his hand from her face. "You're drunk." It wasn't a question.

"Aren't you?" She was missing his lips on hers.

"No." His voice was clear, firm. It sounded harsh to her ears. She winced, and he whispered, understanding. "Well, maybe a bit, but -."

"Shh," Lily said, replacing her hand over his heart; she felt it quicken with a surge of pleasure. "Don't talk."

He obeyed. She kissed him again, and he let her. For a moment, everything made sense.

Until: "Leave me alone! Lily!" a scream came from across the room. Lily started, the haziness returning. She ran, drawn toward the sound. She thought she heard James follow her. The room spun, the world buckling beneath her feet…

"Lily!" More screaming. A commotion at the bar, hexes flying wildly. She ducked to avoid a jet of red light, and her body connected with the floor. Someone yelled her name again, frantic, and she felt herself being dragged upward, through the crowd, and out into the cold. The ground was slippery, and wet, the snow fast disappearing. She was beginning to get soaked, her skin cool and clammy. The rain chased her through the streets, sloshing around her ankles, slowing her progress further.

She couldn't see. She couldn't hear. She couldn't think. All she could do was move, and hope she knew where she was going. Or hope that those who were leading her knew where she was going.

It was not until she was back on Hogwarts grounds that Lily realized she wasn't moving on her own anymore. She was being carried, by whom she didn't know. The same person had also had the sense to wrap a cloak around her, to keep the icy rain at bay. It made her feel safe, so she snuggled in closer. She may have shouted, she wasn't sure what. And then, everything went black.

&&&

**A/N:** This is a "just for fun" chapter, though in hindsight, it isn't as much "fun" as I intended. Regardless. I had fun writing it. I could have simply moved on to Step 3, I know, but hey: "After all, there's more to wallowing than pigging out and feeling sorry for yourself, right?" Lily thought so, I thought so…I couldn't resist. :)

Oh, and just by the way, this was my first time writing a kissing scene. EVER. So I apologize in advance if it was vomit-inducing.

I know the story seems to have gone a bit off-course, what with the whole James-Drunken Lily interaction, but I will fix it. Promise. Everything will be explained in due time.

Thanks for the reviews! Keep it up, guys! You make me wanna write.

And to all those that didn't review last time…please do? Feedback means so, so much to me. I don't write solely for acknowledgment, but I do post on for that reason. Otherwise I may feel that I'm wasting my time. So…please? It only takes a second! And you get my undying gratitude in return :). And anything else you want. Shorter A/Ns? You got it. Heehee.

Love,

AllIWannaDo


	4. Wooziness and Explanations, or Wallow 3

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

_What was that blasted noise?_

It was no use ignoring anymore. Lily groaned, fighting to overcome her drowsiness. With a struggle, she eased herself into a sitting position, squinting as tiny points of light exploded in her vision. White lights. She closed her eyes again, massaging her temples. Forget the tapping. What was that awful pounding in her head? And why wasn't it going away?

Lily let her hands go limp, and slowly opened her eyes – just enough for a quick peek. The light stung at first, but her surroundings soon became clear. The dormitory was deserted, silent except for the crackling of flames in the fireplace, and the tapping, which Lily now realized was courtesy of Alice's owl, Chester. Sighing, she stumbled out of bed and opened the window, shivering at the gust of wind that accompanied Chester into the dormitory. She shot the bird a withering glare as it passed, angry that he had disturbed her sleep. He seemed to return the sentiment. She was sorry when she noticed the hungry look in the bird's yellow eyes. He was obviously expecting breakfast. Lily wondered briefly why Alice would leave without feeding her pet when the sound of footsteps sent her scampering beneath the covers.

She snapped her eyes shut, her breathing ragged. She relaxed her muscles, arranging her features accordingly: red hair mussed, mouth sagging slightly on one side. Perfect. She hoped her imitation would convince her visitors. She had no desire to see or speak to anyone_._

The sound of footsteps grew closer.

Lily was so preoccupied with feigning sleep that she barely noticed when the doorknob turned and in stepped two of her favorite roommates, weary from the previous night's events.

Their footsteps were hesitant now, their voices muffled. Lily could feel the weight of their presence. "_Shh!_" Suddenly, Alice was beside her. No one said a word.

Then: "Lily? You awake?" Alice whispered, shaking her slightly. She didn't answer, of course, wishing more than anything that Alice would just go away and leave her alone.

Thankfully, Alice stopped shaking her after a moment, and Lily relaxed. "Oh Merlin, Lily. What's wrong with her?" She paused and began to pace the length of the room. "She should've been awake hours ago. Dorcas, if anything happens to her, I swear I'll - ."

"You'll what, huh?" No response. Lily could almost see Dorcas' triumphant grin. "I thought so. Just leave her alone; she needs her rest."

Alice sighed, doubtful. "I don't know. She took a pretty nasty fall last night. It isn't normal for her to lie so still."

_OH…BLOODY…HELL_. Why hadn't Lily considered that before? She had been told that she was a restless sleeper, that the slightest movement was enough to wake her up, that she had a tendency to mumble and thrash from side to side. Of course Alice would have observed her sleeping patterns, after years of friendship and living together. Oh well. It was too late now. Lily braced herself for another examination.

Luckily, Dorcas' dry humor saved her. "Yes it is. It's called sleeping."

Silence, then: "You're not funny."

Dorcas snorted, as was customary of her. "At least I'm sane."

"First of all, no, you are not. And second of all, if there was ever a moment when insanity would be acceptable, I think this would be it! How can you act so calm?" Alice screamed, hysterical.

Why was she so concerned about Lily anyhow? Couldn't a person sleep in on a Saturday without all hell breaking loose?

"I'm not acting. This is how _normal _people behave. You, m'dear, are just hysterical."

"I am not! She…do…do you realize how long she's been lying there?"

How long _had_ Lily been lying there? She couldn't remember, she realized with a start. Not at all.

"Relax, _Mum_. Don't you think you're overreacting just a tad? I mean…clearly, she isn't _dead_," Dorcas said loftily.

So Lily wasn't dead. That was comforting. In a way.

But was she…dying? Was that why she couldn't remember anything? Had she blocked out all memory of the experience, in the hope of sparing herself the pain?

It couldn't be. How…? She would know if she were dying, wouldn't she?

Yes, of course.

Death was cruel, yes, but – unlike life – at least it was fair.

"I should hope so, for your sake. Because if she's not, it'll be your burden to carry. Yours and yours alone." Lily felt Alice sit next to her on the bed. It took all of Lily's self-control not to cringe. She was never a fan of close proximity.

"Whatever," Dorcas snapped, but her voice sounded softer, more reassuring the next time she spoke. "She'll be fine. I'm fine, and I had as much – if not more – to drink than she did."

Drinking? Huh? Lily was certain now that she was missing a crucial piece of information.

To Lily's relief, Alice got up. "You're fine?"

"Yes." Her voice was eerily calm.

"You sure about that, Dor?" Clearly, Alice wasn't buying it.

"Yes, that's what I just said. Do try to keep up, _Al_," Dorcas said, mocking Alice's friendly use of the nickname.

There was a long pause, which Chester saw as an opportunity to continue his campaign for food. He hooted and ruffled his feathers, struggling to get his owner's attention. Apparently, Lily was the only one who heard him.

Finally, Alice sighed, her anger giving way to her conscience. "Listen. You know, even though I'm not too thrilled with you right now, if you want to talk – ."

"I don't, thanks," Dorcas interrupted quickly. "I'm fine, remember?"

"No, you're not," Alice said firmly.

"Yes, I am," Dorcas replied, with a finality that any normal person would've taken as a signal to just forget it, let it go, accept that whatever was going on with Dorcas, she didn't want to talk about it, and that was the end of it.

But Alice was not any normal person.

"Dorcas, if you think that you can sit here, all sarcasm and fake smiles, and pretend that absolutely nothing of significance happened to you last night – or to any of us, for that matter - then you are sadly mistaken." Alice said all this without pausing for breaths in between sentences, just needing to get everything out before it all numbed inside her head, and she forgot why it was so vital to begin with. She stopped, then, calmer, but still with the same resolve to continue, whether Dorcas heard her or not, as if this were the last time, the last moment, they could ever have this conversation, and they were going to have it, no arguments. "You…Dorcas, you _cried_…I've never seen you cry before. Never. In all these years. Not once. Not the time you almost got expelled, not when your mum sent you that letter (you know the one I mean, don't look so confused). I never thought I would. I can't even imagine what…what could've happened…what could've affected you that way. I don't want to have to imagine it. I want you to tell me. Please?"

Lily, sensing (and sympathizing with) Dorcas' resistance to talk to Alice, decided to make her presence known. It was no use to try to sleep. Not while her roommates were there, in the middle of – or, worse yet, just at the beginning of - a heart-to-heart. She forced her eyes open, blinking. A pair of pale, worn faces swam into focus: one smug, the other exuberant. Lily cleared her throat, glaring, trying to act as if she had only just discovered her friends hovering over her. She would have wondered why they were watching her so closely while she slept. It was a bit odd, in any case.

"Oh, shut up, will you? I like a good row as much as the next person, but _come on_. I'm trying to sleep here."

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon."

"Lily? Is it…are you…awake?" Alice asked hesitantly.

Dorcas rolled her eyes at the question, stepping back to give Lily air.

Lily resisted the urge to follow her example. She nodded instead, not trusting herself to open her mouth again. She felt queasy, suddenly. Her head ached, her mouth dry and sticky. Her world was beginning to spin, the lights blurring where they danced, those white lights that refused to leave her. Had Lily been able to move, she might have fled the room. She didn't know how much longer she could keep it all together. Lily put a hand to her forehead, surprised to find it wet. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the pillow, finding relief in the horizontal.

Dorcas watched from a distance, frowning from her position atop the dresser.

"Lily?" Alice prompted again. "Are you okay?

_No, I'm not_, she wanted to say. But she couldn't say anything. She couldn't even speak.

Something was wrong.

Lily felt sick, and she wanted to know – no, she _had_ to know – why.

Exactly what had happened last night? What could make Alice so worried, and Dorcas so glum? Why would the girls feel the need to lie awake all night, watching Lily's progress? Lily racked her brain for an explanation, but found none to her satisfaction. She had no memory of the previous night. It had vanished – dissolved, somehow. Lily probed deeper, but it only made her head ache more painfully, and her memories remained out of reach. Nothing. She was drawing a blank.

She needed time to clear her head, perhaps wheedle information out of her friends.

She looked at Alice, overcome with worry, then at Dorcas, her eyes downcast, long legs swinging to and fro. Her cheeks were no longer pale, but pink, puffy. She looked drained. Both girls did. For some reason, it made Lily want to cry.

"Hmm. Looks to me like I was right," Dorcas told Alice, in an attempt at gloating, though her voice lacked the quality necessary for it. Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. Every part of her seemed determined to betray no emotion.

"I hope so," Alice said easily, turning toward her.

Dorcas shrugged, hopping down and moving toward the door. "Guess I'll go." Her hand was already on the doorknob. "See you later, Lils. Feel better, okay?"

She said this without smiling, without looking at Lily once, without even _breathing_.

"Wait. Where are you going?"

Dorcas spoke simply. "Out."

She was gone before Alice could protest. She was gone and she wasn't coming back. They knew as soon as they heard the slam of the portrait hole, followed by the Fat Lady's indignant cries of, "Easy!"

"What's her problem?"

Alice's expression softened at the sound of Lily's voice. "I don't know, but forget about her for now. I'll try to explain later. Here…drink this, you'll feel better."

She withdrew a small glass vial from her pocket and handed it to Lily, nodding her encouragement. Lily took it, examining the potion within. An icky purple mess, speckled with bits of green. Okay, so it was of the hospital wing variety. Lily frowned, refusing to drink until Alice revealed its purpose. Alice sighed, insisting that Lily drink now, and ask questions later.

Lily was reminded oddly of her mother promising her and Petunia an extra helping of dessert if they behaved while she ran errands.

But she was too tired to argue. Giving in, she took a deep breath and tipped the vial forward, gulping the fluid down without tasting it. It wasn't too bad, actually. As far as Madam Pomfrey's potions went, it could have been much worse.

Ah, but it wasn't over yet. No sooner had Lily downed the potion than she felt her stomach rise all the way to her mouth. She pulled the covers off and hopped out of bed, making it to the bathroom just in time to see the waters of the _real _Red Sea gushing out of her, staining the spotless white of the porcelain until it shone like a giant bowl of fruit punch; Lily had always hated fruit punch, and this association with the beverage only seemed to heighten her nausea. She had never seen so much red in her life, and that was saying something, considering the decor in Gryffindor Tower. She thought she was throwing up blood at first, which frightened her, but she had no time to scream, no time to worry that maybe she was dying, after all, and not only that, but that she was going to die here, slumped against the toilet seat in her dormitory at Hogwarts…Oh, Merlin: what would her parents think?

These thoughts and others flitted through Lily's mind as she emptied herself of every ounce of the wooziness she'd felt since she'd woken up, her legs shaking with the sustained effort of supporting her weight, the wooziness itself not yet subsided.

Lily didn't know quite how long she stayed in the bathroom that morning – everything seemed suspended in time, from Alice's presence just outside the door, to the dripping of the faucet just above Lily's head - but when she was finished, she felt better. Relieved. She closed the lid and reached up to flush the toilet, letting her head relax against the tile behind her, as cool as it was bright.

A tap at the door startled her out of her reverie. Chester? Oh, _come on_...Alice had to have fed him by now!

"Lily?" came Alice's voice, soothing despite its underlying concern. "You okay in there?"

Was she okay? Lily opened her eyes slowly, expecting her vision to be filled with crimson, but it wasn't. And there was something very reassuring about that.

She nodded against the door, forgetting that Alice couldn't see her.

"Can I come in?" Alice asked tentatively, Lily's nod as clear to her as if she really had seen it.

Lily nodded again; opening her mouth seemed too perilous an act to contemplate just yet, so she settled for crawling away from the door instead, hoping that Alice would take her stirring as an invitation to enter (that is, if she took notice of such a slight movement at all). She didn't know why, but now that she was no longer dizzy, she wanted Alice there with her. No, not even for the purpose of information. She didn't want any information, not yet; she just wanted her best friend.

Well, actually, she wanted her mummy, as childish an idea as that seemed to her, even in her confused, not-yet-sober state, but her best friend was the next best thing.

Alice entered the room carefully, hesitantly, every step as deliberate as if a troll were asleep in the next room. Spotting Lily next to the tub, she knelt beside her without speaking, her face ethereal in the morning sunshine. Which appeared to be filtering in through a window Lily had never seen before, lucky for her: the light was blinding to her in her fragile state. She turned, reverting to watching Alice. She looked awful, Lily couldn't help but noticing (guiltily): ghostly, her face long beyond human paleness; straight hair flat and tangled, with something like the stress that comes from having too much concern for another person; eyes bright and clear with a touch of moisture, a blink away from tears. Lily wondered if that's how she looked to Alice, and if Alice felt how she looked, as was most likely the case with Lily.

Lily waited for Alice to speak, but she didn't. She just sat there staring at the nothingness before her, as if waiting for Lily to be okay, or at least for her to look okay. Lily tried to clear her throat, but was thwarted by the sticky muck leftover from the fruit punch episode. She longed to rinse her mouth or better yet, brush her teeth, but she still felt too weak, and she wanted to wait to see what Alice would say to her, if anything.

When Alice remained perfectly silent, Lily tapped her on the shoulder. "Alice," she croaked, waiting till she had the girl's attention to proceed. "You said you would explain everything, yes?"

"I said I would try," Alice reminded her, nodding in spite of this small detail.

"Then…erm…go ahead, why don't you?" Lily prompted, confused as to what exactly she wanted to know.

Alice brushed her bangs from her forehead, looking past Lily to the windowsill, where tiny sugar crystals had begun to accumulate. Snow, Lily noted with a tinge of satisfaction. She smiled, wincing where the muscles around her mouth still ached, but Alice appeared not to notice.

"What do you remember?" Alice asked finally. "The very last thing before waking up this morning. I know it's hard, but you have to try, Lily. Madam Pomfrey said that was the only way to - ."

"You went to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Well…yes," Alice said, apologetic for some reason not yet clear to Lily. "I had to, Lily. I'm sorry. I didn't tell her you were the one who needed help, though, don't worry; We - I mean _I_ - just said that I needed the potion for a 'friend.' "

Lily ignored Alice's accidental use of the word "we," guessing that the other person involved was Dorcas, and that Alice simply didn't feel like talking about her at the moment.

"Is she going to tell Dumbledore?" Lily wanted to know now, understanding the reason for Alice's apology. She thought of losing her title as Head Girl, along with the respect that she had worked so hard to earn from her peers and her teachers alike, fat tears filling her eyes before she could command them back. Oh...and her parents...why, they'd be more disappointed than if she _had_ keeled over while vomiting fruit punch into a Hogwarts toilet seat!

"I dunno. She said she wouldn't. I don't think so; she seemed pretty serious when she promised, though I didn't hold her to an Unbreakable Vow or anything."

"That would've been helpful though," Lily said, at once impossibly comical and impossibly serious.

"Yeah. But forget about that for now. You never answered my question, Lily: what's the last thing that you remember before waking up this morning?"

Lily bit her lip, trying to remember without thinking too hard, as she feared it might cause her dizziness to return. She closed her eyes and took a breath, searching for that quiet place where her deepest thoughts resided, feeling a bit as if she were letting the sunlight into an ancient tomb, dusty and devoid of light for as many years as it had existed. Thinking had never been so difficult, so strenuous before. She was always thinking, overanalyzing, whether she was aware of it or not. She thought _too much_, if anything; sometimes it was even annoying. Now, though, it was all she could do to unravel the thread of thought in her head, her mind's eye peeled for something of use, something that might clue her in on the happenings of the past few days. …_Wallowing_. It was the first word – the first hint of a thought - that entered her mind (or at least, the first that she was able to decipher), and she latched onto it as if it were an essential part of her memories.

"Wallowing?" Lily said, and as she did so, the memory revealed itself to her so completely that she wondered how she had ever lost it. "I was…wallowing, yes? I was upset because I saw James with Analiese, so the next day I skived off, so I could wallow in self-pity (the way the old Lily never would have, she added silently, beginning to remember feelings as well). That was yesterday. I waited all day for classes to be over, and when you and Dorcas finally got back, it was all I could do to keep from pouncing on you. But you were too gloomy to notice. You'd just found out that this month's Hogsmeade visit was cancelled. I didn't care, really, as much as this knowledge seemed to upset you. My mind was on other things. But I was so bored, so terribly bored and sick of being alone that when Dorcas suggested that we sneak into Hogsmeade, I said yes. She made it sound so easy, just to leave everything behind like that, and it'd been so long since anything seemed easy for me... So we went, though you were reluctant to tag along, and she took us to a pub after we'd finished shopping (I forget the name of it), where - ."

Lily paused, not quite finished, yet somehow unwilling to continue. It was here that things got not only hazy, but…_embarrassing_. It was this part of their little excursion that made Lily the most ashamed, this part that had gotten Lily into trouble, and this part that made Lily feel as if everything that had happened the night before – even if much of it was still a mystery to her – was unequivocally her fault. This was where she wished the story ended. This was what she didn't want to remember, and why she could still remember wanting to forget.

"I drank," she admitted finally, wilting under Alice's warm, expectant gaze. "A lot. And it wasn't good. That's all that I remember, I reckon." Or maybe just all that she was willing to remember.

All the pain – no, the shame - that she could take for one day.

Alice, as if she understood this, began to fill in the blanks. She touched her bangs again before she spoke, a sure sign that Lily wouldn't like what she was about to say, and that she wouldn't like saying it. "That's good, Lily," she said first, trying on a smile but discarding it mere seconds later, as if seeing how worthless it really was. "You remember a lot. I can fill in the rest, but - I should warn you that you may not like some of it..."

"Or most of it," Lily said, reading Alice like an open palm with the head, heart, and life lines exposed.

From the way Alice looked, half-nodding, half-frowning at Lily's perceptiveness, which should have made things easier for her, Lily knew without a doubt that whatever happened next was going to tear mercilessly at her heart line.

"Okay, well, there's no easy way to put this. You drank a lot, you're right, and so did Dorcas. The two of you gulped down glass after glass of this sticky red liquid. I didn't catch the name of it. It made you act_ridiculous_. (In other words, the way that Dorcas acts on a regular, day-to-day basis.) You got drunk quickly and it kept getting worse, because no matter how far gone you were, it was like you wouldn't stop; you just kept wanting more. I was…worried about you, you know? And then...ha, guess who came gallivanting – yes, that's the only way to put it, so shut up - through the door in the middle of everything?"

Lily realized that Alice really did want her to guess.

Only, she wasn't so sure she wanted to know anymore.

She guessed anyway, saying the name of the first person who came to mind, a person who it seemed she hadn't thought about in a long while (though she knew, obviously, that this was the polar opposite of the truth): "James Potter."

"Yep," confirmed Alice gravely. "And Sirius Black. What a pair, eh? They came in, and you started to get all excited, like you'd forgotten who they were, exactly, but you knew that they were cute. You called James over and we…erm…chatted, I s'pose, while Sirius and Dorcas ordered another round of drinks. And then you asked James to dance and the two of you left. I'm not sure what happened between the two of you, if anything. I had my head down on the table at this point. But the next thing I knew, everyone was screaming. Or, well, just one person…at first."

Lily's eyes widened; she was still inwardly cringing at the thought of James witnessing her foolishness. The screaming, however, added a twist to the tale that even she had not foreseen. "Who was screaming?" she asked, hoping that it wasn't her.

"It wasn't you," Alice assured her, reading her mind, as usual. "It was Dorcas."

"Dorcas? Why? What happened?" _You...Dorcas, you _cried..._I've never seen you cry before. _Alice's words struck Lily in a way that they hadn't earlier. She had assumed that Alice was just overreacting, as usual, possibly using the word "cry" figuratively. After all, Alice was right: in all their years at Hogwarts, not once had they seen Dorcas cry. She was everything brave, strong, and reckless. Nothing bothered her, nothing scared her, nothing made her wince in disgust...Nope, sometimes not even the important things. Lily was puzzled as to what could have elicited so strong a reaction from her friend.

"I'm not sure," Alice said, shaking her head almost sadly. "I tried to get it out of her, but she wouldn't tell me. She didn't speak at all the whole way back to the castle. All I know is that I heard Dorcas screaming, so I ran to see what the ruckus was, and the first thing I saw was Dorcas and a woman who looked old enough to be her gran involved in some sort of duel! Which…shocked me, as I'm sure you can imagine…so for a moment I froze: I just stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out if I should intervene or call for help or just keep watching and hope that everything resolved itself, when, to my relief, Sirius came to Dorcas' rescue. Or…uh…he tried. Her opponent was pretty spry for someone so old. I still can't figure out how she escaped unscathed with so many wands pointed at her. Anyway, Sirius helps, and then you and James come bounding over, confused at first but eager to join in, only…you end up getting hit with a curse, and while everyone is rushing toward you to see if you're okay, the old hag just kind of…disappears. I don't think anyone cared at that point, except maybe Dorcas; she's the only one who knows why the whole thing started, after all. Oh, and the proprietor of The Flaming Phoenix: we are now officially banned from ever entering the pub again. For life. You, me, Dorcas, James, Sirius – all of us. I think James and Sirius were pretty sore about it; apparently, Al's a family friend. Dorcas might've been sore, too, if she'd been paying attention; apparently, he's a _personal_ friend – if you know what I mean. But…it was scary, Lily, even if I can joke about it now. Not so much that you fell, but the _way _you fell. You went rigid and you didn't move, didn't even flinch, when your body made contact with the floor. It almost looked like you were…well…you know. And for a split second I thought you might be. I didn't see the color of the curse you were hit with, remember? So I wasn't sure if…if…eh, if you could get back up on your own."

Lily nodded, knowing that there had been a lot more that Alice hadn't been sure of, like whether Lily would get back up _at all_. But she understood why Alice hadn't wanted to say this, even if it did hurt just as much unspoken. It was better if kept in limbo – that space between thought and speech, abstract and concrete, where only memory could tread.

"How did you get me back to the castle, then, if I couldn't move on my own?" Lily asked at last, knowing the answer the instant she asked the question.

James.

Alice swallowed. She was probably wondering whether Lily really needed to hear this part. Whether it wouldn't just upset her more. "Yeah, he carried you back to the castle. We were there, too, of course. James and Sirius took us through a secret passageway, which was better than how Dorcas had planned to get us back to Gryffindor Tower, which was just to tell us to make a run for it and pray that Filch was too preoccupied with Peeves to notice. Her only advice? Run _fast_." Alice rolled her eyes almost fondly. "Well, that's Dorcas for you, I s'pose. She doesn't care about her own future; what makes you think she'd care about ours?"

Admittedly, Lily was getting tired of Alice's animosity toward Dorcas, which she suspected was largely an excuse to mention her. She directed the conversation away from Dorcas and toward her favorite subject. Well…she had promised she'd stop denying it, hadn't she? "So, James carried me back to the castle, with you, Sirius, and Dorcas in tow." She couldn't help the smile that swept across her features at the thought, involuntarily, nor could Alice help mimicking it with one of her own. "And then...you went to Madam Pomfrey, who...?"

"Well, we went. James and me. Sirius stayed with you and Dorcas. She still wasn't very aware of her surroundings at that point, but I think she was happy to have some company. So, James and I went to see Madam Pomfrey. I was nervous going alone, never having needed a cure for a hangover myself, but James didn't seem to mind asking for one. Said he was used to it, and that Pomfrey would practically be expecting him to show up. Erm...yeah...let's just say he wasn't too far-off. Well, okay, I don't know if she was _expecting_ him, and she certainly wasn't expecting _me_, but the idea that there were students not only out of bed after hours but out of bed _and_ intoxicated really didn't seem all that unsettling to her. I s'pose she's been there, done that even more times than James has. She told us to use a levitating charm to carry you up the stairs (as you know, the girls dormitories are off-limits to boys - yes, even the marauders, surprisingly; I know, I figured they'd found a way around that by now) and gave me a potion for later. She said it would 'remove the impurities from your body,' though she forgot to mention how - sorry about that, by the way. There was going to be some memory loss, as often happens when a person is stunned while intoxicated (or just intoxicated), but nothing permanent, she assured us, and certainly nothing that a good deal of rest and relaxation couldn't fix...You know how crazy she is about making people stay in bed all day. She even wanted us to bring you to the hospital wing for an official examination, but James convinced her that wasn't necessary. She _loves_ him...but, er, anyway...that's basically it. After we managed to get you upstairs, I pocketed the potion, we said our thank-yous, and Dorcas and I retired to our dormitory for a sleepless night of watching you sleep, neither of us saying a word to each other the entire time."

"Until this morning," Lily finished for her.

"Until this morning," Alice agreed.

They sat in silence for a time, Alice retrospective, Lily drowsy.

"Hey, want to go back to the dormitory?" Alice asked kindly.

Lily looked up. How had Alice stood without attracting her notice? She must still be tired, she decided.

A day's worth of sleep wasn't enough to shake off a hangover?

"Mind if I brush my teeth first?"

"Oh. Uh, no. Go right ahead."

"Hey, Al?" Lily called when she was safely in bed once more.

"Hm?"

"If I ever, ever try to drink again..." She paused, thinking. Her head was growing fuzzy with the anticipation of sleep. She kept her request simple, forgoing an attempt at her trademark wit. "Don't let me."

"Will do."

"Oh, and you should feed Chester," she added as an afterthought, already drifting off...

"What?! Oh, Merlin...Chester! I'm sorry!"

**A/N**: Phew. That took a while to get up. A whole year, to be exact. I don't know if anyone out there is still reading, but I've had this chapter half-written for the longest time (since last summer, actually, in the midst of unfinished summer reading and AP Chemistry assignments and back-to-school shopping), so when I came across it the other day, I couldn't resist sprucing it up a bit, and from there, finishing it. I have no excuse for not updating for a year. Every single one of my original readers is entitled to hate me. Just please review? As one last favor to me, an irresponsible teenage girl who was under way too much stress (junior year plus magnet high school equals death) to think of updating? I'm going to start working on the next chapter right away (I have some of that done, as well), so never fear that I won't update for _another_year.

I know some people are going to have questions about this chapter, even if it was just a filler (pretty long filler, eh?), but rest assured that all will explain itself in due time. And Lily and James will not be getting back together for a long while, though I do see a dialogue in their future, as well as lots of thinking on both sides. I'll let that sink in...

Oh, and (last thing, I promise) if you're impatient like me, and you just can't wait find out what Dorcas' deal is, you can read all about it from her POV in "I Always Knew," a one-shot I posted last summer. It's okay; I liked it a lot when I wrote it. I find it a bit cheesy now, but it does go into more detail about Dorcas' feelings than this fic ever will, which is always a good thing.

I said once a long time ago that I wouldn't abandon this fic, and so I haven't. :)

So long, my lovely readers (and hopefully REVIEWERS)!

Hope I haven't disappointed you too much (in other words, I hope that the long wait was worth it, as my writing has changed some since my last update)!

Love,

AllIWannaDo


	5. Nothing

Alice was gone again by the time Lily woke up.

Lily didn't know where she'd gone, but she did have an idea, and she wasn't at all looking forward to having this idea confirmed.

Suddenly, Lily no longer saw the romance in being carried; she only saw the implication of weakness.

If Alice really _was_ in the common room with James and the rest of the marauders, as Lily suspected she might be, and she admitted it (or rather, Lily tricked her into admitting it by convincing her she was guilty of some sort of betrayal), how would this make Lily feel, exactly? Would it make her happy to know that James still cared what happened to her, that he felt responsible – no, I daresay, guilty - for the incident at the bar, and that this guilt might even cause him to regret breaking things off with her? Would having James' pity - not his love, necessarily, but his concern - make Lily feel better about the situation, or would it simply make her feel even more pathetic than she already did? If crying over a boy made her worthless in her eyes, what did getting drunk over a boy make her in his? What was worse than being worthless?

_Nothing_.

How convenient. She'd thought of nothing (literally) and solved both of her queries. Nothing was worse, and it made her nothing – Lily had never quite appreciated the versatility of the word "nothing" before.

She wasn't supposed to move. Alice had made that much clear before Lily had drifted off to sleep. She said she wanted to wait and see what Madam Pomfrey said; maybe that's where she was now, at the hospital wing waiting to collect yet another one of Pomfrey's dreadful concoctions. This wasn't an unlikely possibility, but Lily doubted it regardless. What more could anyone do for her that hadn't already been done?

Okay, so she had been "stunned while intoxicated." That was true. But stunned or not, she was still first and foremost intoxicated, and she knew from sharing a room with Dorcas for the past seven years that she'd feel fine by tomorrow morning. So what if each sun-sprinkled snowflake pierced her eyes like a guiltless, microscopic needle, forcing her to draw the blinds – and the curtains surrounding her four-poster bed – closed, filling her vision with crimson again, that sickening redness that no longer reminded her of Gryffindor pride and courage and integrity, but of blood and fruit punch and nausea? (Even with her eyes shut, she couldn't escape the blinding brilliance of the color: light painted the inside of her eyelids red too.) So what if nothing seemed to drown out the sound of the miniature orchestra rehearsing in her head, or if she had to occasionally tell Alice to stop screaming, because even a whisper was too harsh a sound for her ears? So what if she alternately felt the urge to laugh and cry without provocation? So what if she was experiencing the symptoms of a cold she didn't remember catching – if her head felt heavy and congested, if all of her body felt numb, if her breaths felt rough and grainy in her throat? So what if she was unsteady on her feet, yet unable to keep from getting up for a glass (and then another, and another) of water to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth? So what if she had to struggle to remember feelings that she would otherwise struggle to forget? So what if she was nauseated and tired and trapped in a continual state of confusion? SO WHAT? She deserved all of this and more. Each symptom was a part of her punishment, and she readily accepted it, even felt good enduring it. This was the last time she would ever feel like this again. Never again would she try to drown her grief in alcohol.

It was all going to end soon. Then her problems would be just her problems again, without the warm fuzziness of intoxication or the icy intensity of its after-effects. She would wake up tomorrow and she would still have a Potions essay to write; Dorcas would still be having a nervous breakdown; and the boy Lily loved would still be off loving another girl. Everything she'd thought she could run from would be right where she'd left it. This would end, this hangover, but the rest of her life had only just begun.

&

"Where were you just now?" Lily called to Alice when she heard her trying to sneak into the room a short time later.

"You're awake again," Alice said, stating the obvious to avoid the question, a favorite tactic of hers.

"So I am," Lily said, thankful that her eyes were too puffy to roll. Her irritability seemed to have returned through the same door as Alice. "Nice observation. Now, where were you?"

When Alice didn't have an answer, Lily tried supplying a few for her. "Were you wherever Dorcas still is?"

Wrong, she didn't even know where Dorcas was.

"Were you in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey?"

Wrong again, she had nothing more to ask of Madam Pomfrey. She had already provided them with a detox potion for Lily. If Alice went to see her again, she might start to rethink her promise not to tell Dumbledore; after all, it could be more serious than your typical case of drunkenness.

"Were you studying at the library?"

So, so wrong. On a Saturday afternoon without her friends or Frank for company? No way, she wasn't Lily.

"Were you in the loo visiting Moaning Myrtle's toilet while she was off doing ghastly (or should that be ghostly?) things that don't involve _moaning _for once?"

This one earned her an award for queerness in the form of a knitted brow, so no, that couldn't be it either.

Finally, Lily gave in to the nagging in the pit of her stomach, which – lucky for Alice – had replaced the irritability from a few minutes ago.

"Were you in the common room talking to the marauders?"

Lily allowed herself to talk about James if she referred to him and his friends collectively; it was almost an excuse to wonder about him.

Alice collapsed on her bed, defeated. She didn't ask why Lily was so concerned. Maybe she didn't have to, or maybe she simply didn't care; it wasn't worth fighting over, nor was it worth the introduction of more insane possibilities. They both knew the truth. "Yes, I was. This morning too. You know, this morning, when Dorcas and I left the room just before you woke up? James wanted to know how you were feeling. I told him you'd taken the antidote and gone back to sleep, but you'd be fine. He was awake all of last night too. So we wouldn't have to wait alone, I guess. He couldn't come up here, like I said, so he stayed in the common room."

Once again, Lily's moods swung 'round like a deranged Hippogriff tethered to a tree. Lily was irritated. Lily was silly. Lily was…crying? Huh, for a girl who often had difficulty crying (even when she wanted to), she had certainly been doing a lot of it the past twenty-four hours. She decided she'd been missing nothing. Crying didn't make her feel any better. It only made her feel helpless and annoyingly girly, like Rapunzel waiting for the prince to come and rescue her from the tower, her long hair her only asset. It made her feel hormonal, groggy, and icky all over. Pink-cheeked, breathless, and wildly out of control of herself. Euphoric yet terrified all at once, terrified of the madness that seemed to have taken control of her, and just wanting it to end, for her head to clear and for the world to stop spinning on its axis, for the ground to be below her and the sky to be above her again, so she would once again be in control of things like the pounding of her heart, the speed of her breathing, and her view of the world. That comforting and awful feeling of control. It was the same way she'd felt with…

Ahem, the origin of her tears confused her, as well. Were these tears of Gratitude? Guilt? Shame? Relief? Joy? Hope? Was it even possible to feel so much at once? "Is he still there?"

"Maybe. I don't know. He knows you're okay now, so he might've felt free to leave."

Lily got up to walk about the room, which always helped her think (not that she needed any help thinking, really, just making sense of her thoughts), forgetting that her dizziness still would not allow it. She took but two steps before falling, pitifully, back onto the bed. Alice bit her lip, worried.

"So you still can't stand on your own, huh?" she asked, her eyes flicking toward the door. So who would be the first to hear about Lily's inability to pace, she wondered: James, Madam Pomfrey, Dorcas, if Alice managed to locate her? Or was it finally time to let _Dumbledore_ in on the secret?

(You know, for someone who claimed to be omnipresent, there was a lot going on at Hogwarts that Dumbledore didn't know about – either that, or he was simply choosing to ignore what he knew, in which case: what a sick, twisted, sadistic man the Powers That Be had chosen for headmaster!)

Lily, for one, didn't see why everyone was so worried about her. She wasn't the first person to wake up feeling…er…slightly disoriented. Even without alcohol.

"That is not true. I can stand. I just can't walk."

Who needed to walk anyway? Well, she did, if she wanted to think clearly, but then again, who needed to think? Thinking was overrated.

It was Alice's turn to roll her eyes. "Well, I'm relieved." A sigh. "Lily, why would you do this to yourself? Not bloke is worth all of this. Not even James."

Why did she have to love – to fall for - James Potter? Why had she ever hated him? Maybe if she hadn't hated him so strongly, so completely, she wouldn't love him so much now.

Why had she agreed to be his girlfriend? She had spent so much time resisting – she couldn't keep it up for just a bit longer, until he got over her, or until they left Hogwarts and went their separate ways?

Why hadn't she just kept her feelings buried, the way she always had, in the hope that they'd go away eventually? Things had been so good between them. They were _friends_. Why had Lily wanted more? Why had she pushed for more, just when she'd convinced James to stop doing the same?

Why hadn't these feelings gone away? Why did she keep watching him even when she knew he'd never again look over his shoulder and smile at her? Even when she knew she'd been right about him all along?

Why did she have to drink? To forget? Was it not more important to remember that she loved James, and all of the reasons why she shouldn't, couldn't, and wouldn't?

Yes.

Lily could use this experience to her advantage, after all, despite the pain it had caused her and all parties involved. _Embrace the pain, Lily. Embrace it. Don't forget; learn and move forward._

"I don't know, Alice. I don't know. Haven't I already promised that I wouldn't do it again?" _That I'd be in control from now on?_

"Yea. I just hope that's enough. G'nite, Lily."

"G'nite, Alice."

"Alice?"

"Hm?"

"By the way, I wasn't lying: I can stand."

And stand she did, with no one to depend on for balance but herself, the way she preferred it.

Alice was right: James wasn't worth it. He wasn't worthy of her. This, above all, she needed to remember now.

It was indeed possible to restore order and sanity to her life.

&

**A/N**: Yes, I'm updating. It's been over a year, but I refuse to give up on this fanfic. I don't expect to have any readers left, let alone reviewers, but perhaps I'll earn them in time.

Hope you nonexistent readers and reviewers enjoy this chapter, though it is a tad short. Now that Lily's sorted through her emotions regarding James, things should pick up ;) Expect a longer chapter in due time.

I'm in college now. Lots of time on my hands. Haha.

Love,

AllIWannaDo


	6. Recovery and Dumbledore's Office

It was indeed possible to restore order and sanity to her life. It was not just possible; it was simple. Simpler than Lily had anticipated it would be.

She spent the rest of her weekend and the following week recuperating, dividing her time between sleeping, catching up on homework and Heads' duties (when was the last time they'd had a meeting?), and trying to remember what happened that night at The Flaming Phoenix. Her first instinct was to suppress all memories of that night, but she couldn't, not before she relived every excruciatingly humiliating moment in detail. She truly was a masochist, but a sober one, who had vowed to confront and experience her pain rather than attempting to numb or forget it - whether by alcohol or by other means.

However, before she could experience the pain, she had to remember its cause. Unfortunately, although she regained snippets of her memory, the more she persisted in trying to recall her time with James, the denser the fog grew that shrouded it. She knew that he was at the bar that night and that they'd exchanged glances - and maybe a word or two - but not much else.

Whatever had happened - whatever Lily had done or said while drunk - she felt grateful that it had both rejuvenated her and cured her of her preoccupation with James and their former relationship. The feelings of euphoria and melancholia that thoughts of James used to arouse had been replaced with another emotion: shame. Apart from its general unpleasantness, shame denied Lily even the perverse pleasure of self-pity that wallowing had permitted her, thus eliminating the incentive to think of James. All internal struggles had ceased. Putting James from her mind was a simple matter of self-preservation. _Don't think of him_, she told herself, and her mind obeyed as it hadn't before, because thinking of him hurt. It always had, of course, but now that was all it did.

It helped that, in addition to causing her pain, the snippets of memory that returned at the thought of James did not promote a positive self-image.

Dorcas made herself scarce, only returning to the dormitory to sleep, which increased Alice's worries. If questioned, Dorcas blamed her prolonged absences on Quidditch practice. It was useless to ask, though, as Dorcas was by turns unresponsive and evasive, as determined to avoid her friends as she was to avoid their questions.

Lily, who had suffered from bouts of insomnia since her breakup with James at the start of term, now strove to resume a normal sleeping pattern. The week following the episode at The Flaming Phoenix, she fell asleep every night at eleven o' clock sharp and woke every morning at seven o' clock sharp, sleeping for a total of eight hours, exactly. She had no trouble falling asleep, and once asleep, she remained asleep, as though she'd swallowed one of Madam Pomfrey's sleeping draughts. The dark circles that had begun to take up residence under her eyes, giving her an uncharacteristically tired, haggard appearance, now disappeared as quickly and as completely as if she'd used a concealment charm, presumably settling beneath Dorcas' eyes, because even though she returned to the dormitory "to sleep," she never did.

In addition to fixing her sleep schedule, Lily resumed applying make-up and shampooing her hair every night rather than every other night. Once she'd thought that there was no sense in making an effort to be pretty if James wasn't going to notice her anymore, but now she realized how silly and pathetic a thought this was.

Lily felt better and better as time progressed. They all did: she, Alice, and even Dorcas (slightly). If she glimpsed James in the hallway or in class and something he did triggered a memory, or when thoughts of him plagued her as she recopied the final draft of her Potions essay in bed, she reminded herself that she had passed the wallowing stage of her recovery and was now supposed to be focusing on herself. She had to rebuild her life around the hole that James had left. She allowed herself no tears, which was just as well, as her tear ducts had apparently halted tear production as a result of being too overtaxed recently. No doubt there was some scientific or magical explanation for the phenomenon, but Lily hadn't bothered to research one.

Lily having successfully recovered from wallowing and further progressed toward getting over James, it came as quite a jolt to her peace of mind when she and James were summoned to Dumbledore's office one evening. Lily was sitting by a window in the common room, pretending to be absorbed in writing a letter to her parents while simultaneously glancing from the window to the fireplace and back again. Outside, snow flurries demanded her attention, while James, who had recently joined his friends for a game of Wizard's Chess, beckoned from the fireplace. Every time James' fist hit the table, she had to look up; it was like a reflex. Before, she would often find him waiting for her glares, as if he made a spectacle of himself solely to attract her notice. Now he stayed focused on the game.

Suddenly, a first year boy, all limbs and nervousness, tripped up to her with an air of importance. Lily Ignored him for as long as possible before politeness and curiosity got the better of her and she found herself saying, "Yes? May I help you?" in as inviting a tone as she could muster under the circumstances.

"Dumbledore wants to see you and the Head Boy, Mrs. Head Girl...ma'am," he gulped. Then he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "The password is 'cockroach clusters.'"

Ugh. Lily detested cockroach clusters. Even worse, she was going to have to interrupt James' game to relay Dumbledore's summons to him. In front of the whole common room, including Analiese, who was spectating the game with rapt attention - from underneath James' arm. Or maybe not... Lily turned to the boy, smirking deviously. He recoiled slightly at the abrupt change in her facial expression.

"That's the Head Boy right over there," she pointed. "You run along and give him Dumbledore's message."

If the boy protested, Lily didn't hear him. Without looking back, she bolted across the room, out of the portrait hole, and down the hallway, heading for Dumbledore's office. She was behaving cowardly, she knew, but her life had been so blessedly peaceful without James that she wasn't eager to destroy the peace by being in close proximity to him again. The last time she'd been in an enclosed space with him, she'd become so distraught that she'd skived off class and gotten drunk. What would she do this time? She hoped a relapse wasn't imminent; she'd made so much progress in the last week! It'd be less likely with the headmaster present and with James beside her instead of in front of her. Still, the idea of being mere inches from James made her dizzy, which is why she sprinted, putting as much distance between herself and James as possible, until she reached Dumbledore's office and she no longer could.

She'd waited five minutes outside the door to Dumbledore's office when James arrived, looking flushed and disheveled. Perhaps he'd been running. It reminded Lily of when he would find her in the stands after a Quidditch match or scour the labyrinthine halls of Hogwarts for her after a practice. He'd sneak up behind her, looking as he did now, and poke the ticklish spot under her ribs. She'd squeak in surprise and swipe at him playfully, and he'd laugh and hug her from behind, kissing her hair, her check, and her neck as his heartbeat and breathing gradually slowed. Lily hadn't even minded the sweat.

Anyway, she wasn't supposed to think about that.

_No, I just don't want to_, amended Lily.

A more pleasant thought was that James was flushed and disheveled because he'd been chasing her and he hadn't caught her, in defiance of whatever rules had governed the initiation of their relationship. True, she'd given herself a head start, but he had the advantage of athletic training, and still she'd won. So there.

Lily relished in winning; it made her feel in control.

"Shall we?" James asked, nodding toward the office door.

"After you," Lily said without looking at him.

"Why not you first?" James asked. "You got here first, after all."

"It really ought to be you," Lily insisted.

But James wouldn't relent, so Lily had to, feeling as though she were relinquishing some of the control she'd won. James must've been aware that she'd "won" the first match when she'd beaten him to the office, so he had to win this one. The prat.

It was stupid to argue over something as trivial as which of them stepped aboard the moving spiral staircase first, anyway. But then, most of her arguments with James were stupid. Their senseless bickering used to fill Lily with a pulsing heat that could only be quenched by making out with him - anywhere and everywhere - but now it was just insufferable. _It was insufferable before we dated, too_, Lily reminded herself. _Funny how our relationship has come full-circle_, she mused as the staircase carried them up.

* * *

Dumbledore smiled as James and Lily entered his office. He was _always _smiling. Lily imagined that he smiled even while disciplining students, though she had no personal experience with Dumbledore's disciplinary manner.

"Good evening, Miss Evans, Mr. Potter. Have a seat. Can I interest either of you in a lemon drop before we begin?"

_Not unless one of them is a Portkey_.

Lily shook her head, but thanked him politely. James took two and passed one to Lily. She pocketed it, seething, wondering if her displeasure was visible on her face.

"Everything all right with the two of you?"

It was, until he'd called her to that office and thrust James into her presence.

"Business going fine?"

Ha, what business? They hadn't met to discuss Heads' business in weeks. The Prefects had probably mutinied.

"Anything wrong with your private quarters?"

_Just their inhabitants_.

There were no Heads' dormitories (where had that rumor even come from?), but there was a common room, which James and Lily were supposed to use to conduct official Head business and to hold Prefect meetings. They were the only two in the whole school, except Dumbledore himself, who knew the password. Lily used to go there sometimes to be alone, and she and James had often gone together. She hadn't been there since the breakup. She didn't know if James had.

"Hm, I wonder, then…well, it's just that, I've noticed the Heads' common room has been uncommonly vacant recently. Any particular reason why? Rodents, perhaps?"

James laughed loudly. Lily considered kicking him, but that would've been too predictable, so she settled for glaring instead. Not that glaring was any less predictable... Well, at least she hadn't risked James crying out in shock or pain and making it obvious what she'd done.

"I gather from Mr. Potter's reaction that my presumption was incorrect. Well, all right, then. You are dismissed. However, might I remind the two of you, before you go, not to let your personal affairs interfere with your duty as Heads of House. You have been granted a great privilege. Do _not_ abuse it."

The pair nodded and exited the room in silence.

* * *

**_A/N:_** Yes, I'm updating. After four years. Old readers, you may all keel over in shock. New readers, I understand that you may be reluctant to read and review a story by a writer who waited four years to update it the last time, but I assure you, it won't happen again. Because I already have another 3,000 or so words written that I originally intended to post in this chapter. But since a) I'm evil, b) I felt the chapter would be too long, and c) I have a history of not updating if I don't have the next chapter half-completed already, I decided to post just what you see above. I will be continuing this story regardless of whether anyone reviews it - it's become a personal goal of mine - but I would still appreciate some feedback! I love hearing from my readers, so let me know what you think!

Lots of love, to readers old and new,

AllIWannaDo


	7. The Conversation

Lily and James boarded the spiral staircase simultaneously, without arguing or even speaking.

Lily was relieved - and a bit surprised - to be parting with James unscathed when she heard a tentative, "Lily?"

She stopped but didn't turn. "What?" she asked, barely suppressing a groan.

"Want to patrol with me? It's been a while since we've done anything Head-related."

Lily sighed. He was right. Hadn't Dumbledore just hinted that they ought not to neglect their Head duties? "I know, but...not tonight, okay? Homework." Lies. She'd finished her homework. But James could patrol without her.

Or not. To Lily's immense frustration and disappointment, James stepped in front of her. "Okay, we don't have to patrol. We could just...talk."

Lily raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What about?"

James shrugged. "Friday night?"

Oh, crap. Friday night was the last subject Lily wanted to discuss, especially with James. Though she had few memories of her drunken behavior - and even fewer that included James - what she did remember was _embarrassing_. She took a long breath before responding. "What about it?"

James licked his bottom lip, hesitating. "We...we kissed, remember?"

They _WHAT_? No, Lily did not remember. Did he kiss her or did she kiss him? That was an important detail, but not one she could ask for. Damn, damn, damn, DAMN.

James continued, thankfully unaware of Lily's internal panic. "I've been thinking about it and I realized I needed to talk to you. See how you felt about it and...and everything."

Lily swallowed. _Don't blush, Lily. Don't. Blush. _she commanded. The sudden, stifling heat in her cheeks alerted her to her body's defiance. "Well, how do you feel about it, James?" At least she'd managed to keep her voice steady enough.

James scratched his head. "Dunno. It sorta depends on whether you meant what you said."

"What I said..." Lily gestured for him to continue, bracing herself for another revelation of the drunken antics of James' pathetic ex-girlfriend. Never had she been so certain that swearing off alcohol was the right decision for her.

James chuckled. "You don't remember, do you? That makes this a bit harder. It was...you said...," he sighed, "...I love you."

Lily's heart palpitated. Was she dreaming? No, she must've misheard him, misunderstood. "Thanks..." she said in confusion.

"No, no... I mean...you said you loved me," James clarified.

The misunderstanding was graver than Lily had realized. If she'd felt ashamed upon learning that James had carried her back to the castle, procured a hangover cure for her from Madam Pomfrey, and waited all night in the common room for an update on her condition, it was nothing compared to how she felt now that she knew that she'd thrown herself at him. It was true that she loved James and wanted to kiss him still, but he was never supposed to know. Lily felt her remaining pride - that one last shard of it that she'd been clinging to - shatter.

Unless James was questioning her about her feelings because he returned them. Perhaps he'd assumed that she would remember their encounter in the pub, and that she'd approach him about it when she was ready. And when she hadn't, he'd begun to doubt the truth in her words and actions.

Lily's heart swelled involuntarily as she struggled to curb the foolish hope that was choking her, had been choking her for weeks. "And you said?"

James looked past her, at the gargoyle that concealed the spiral staircase leading to Dumbledore's office. As Lily studied his face, she found herself missing the days when he loved her, not for the obvious reason - okay, not _just _for the obvious reason - but because both he and his feelings for her were so transparent then. Now he kept his emotions guarded and his face illegible. **  
**

"Erm..."

"That's what you said? Erm?" Lily asked, crossing her arms.

"No...well, yes, essentially. I didn't say anything."

Great. Not only had she kissed her ex-boyfriend and told him she loved him, but he hadn't reciprocated, after all. Why confront her about her drunken confession, then? To toy with her? To torture her? To humiliate her (though not more than she'd already humiliated herself)? To stroke his ego?

If he didn't want her, then she didn't want him. (Or at least, she wouldn't admit to wanting him.)

And he clearly didn't. He couldn't tell her he loved her even when she was drunk and the chance of her remembering it was slim, even when _he_ was drunk and free of inhibition.

So why did he care if she loved him? What did it even matter?

All of Lily's hope quickly devolved into hurt and anger. She pursed her lips. "Hmm. Then I think you've found your answer. Hope that clears everything up."

She started to walk away again, but again James thwarted her attempt.

"Lily, wait. How exactly does that clear everything up?"

"I told you I...l-loved you, " she stammered, hating herself for the weakness her voice betrayed,"and you couldn't tell me the same."

"It caught me a bit off-guard! Considering the circumstances...Dammit, Lily, I hadn't spoken to you in over a month! What did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know - something!"

"We aren't together anymore," he said very quietly.

Lily snorted. "Brilliant. Marvelous. Thanks for pointing that out. I don't know what I would've done without the reminder. I might have gotten drunk and snogged y - oh, wait." She rolled her eyes.

Ignoring her sarcasm, James said, "No, but listen...just because we aren't together, that doesn't mean your feelings don't matter to me. I still - I care. About you, I mean."

Liar. "Right. You broke up with me, remember?

"How could I forget?" James replied dryly.

"Well, if you haven't forgotten, you ought to know that whether Friday night changes our current relationship status all depends on how _you_ feel! A question you obviously expect _me_ to answer for you! And I won't! Maybe next time you should have a better understanding of your own feelings before you demand that I enlighten you about mine! Figure something out on your own for a change! Just because I'm Head Girl doesn't mean that I have all the answers, _Potter_!" Lily shouted. Out of breath though she was, she grinned evilly when she noted how James had winced at her use of his surname.

"Obviously, _Evans_," he snapped, but she didn't even flinch. "Neither do I."

"Obviously. You don't seem to have _any _lately. You broke up with me, so you're the one who gets to decide if Friday changes things, not me. Though I really don't think it should, personally. You were drunk, I was drunk..."

"I wasn't _that _drunk," James interrupted. "Not as drunk as you were, anyway. And does that mean you didn't mean what you said?"

"Yes." No... "It means...I don't know, probably...I barely even remember saying it!" Lily threw her hands in the air and stalked toward the nearest window. It would be easier to have this conversation without having to worry that her face was belying everything she said.

James followed. "I s'pose you expect me to forget about it, too - pretend none of it ever happened."

"If you please." Really, why couldn't he? Would it really be so difficult for him to do her that one favor? He could even drink to forget, if necessary - Lily may have vowed to remain sober, but he (probably) hadn't!

After a pause, James said, "I can't do that, Lily."

"You have a girlfriend, James," Lily reminded him. She hadn't wanted to bring up Analiese, considering how awkwardly she'd reacted to seeing him and Analiese together in the common room last week, but James had left her no choice. Analiese was her trump card. Of all of the obstacles standing in the way of a reconciliation between James and Lily, including Lily's wounded pride and the fact that James didn't love her anymore, Analiese was the most glaring and the most undeniable, if not the most insurmountable.

"Analiese?" He sounded uncertain, which prompted Lily to wonder just how many girlfriends he had. "She's not _really _my girlfriend."

Not his girlfriend? What kind of imbecile did he take her for? It was insulting, what lies he thought she'd accept. Lily laughed icily. "Oh, really? Do you parade all of your friends around in lingerie?"

"Only the ones I like. Besides, it was a dress."

"That _dress _was practically transparent."

James was unconcerned. "So? It was a dress. I know; I was there when she bought it."

Lily was aghast. James had adamantly refused to go clothes shopping with her during their relationship. "You shop now, do you?" she asked, more petulantly than she'd intended.

"I needed a new pair of dress robes," he shrugged. "But you're changing the subject."

"You never went shopping with me," Lily pointed out in what she hoped was a more nonchalant tone than the one she'd used previously. Instead she sounded indignant.

"You never asked."

And more lies. But Lily was saved from formulating a protest by the realization that this argument was turning into one that a couple would have, and she and James were no longer a couple, as he'd been kind enough to remind her. Nor did he love her anymore, she recalled with a jolt. She searched for a means of ending the conversation while still getting the last word. "It was not a dress and that's final. What's next, going to try to pass her off as your cousin?"

"No, I think that'd be a bit disturbing, all things considered," he said with a chuckle.

Lily wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"You don't say." She started down the hallway again.

"Lily."

"Sod off."

James caught her by the arm before she reached the end of the hallway. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, but otherwise remained still.

"I just want to know if you meant it. That's all. Then I'll forget it, if that's what you want," he told her.

"It's what you want, as well," Lily said softly. Maintaining a facade of anger and indifference was becoming more of a challenge the longer Lily stood there with James. She had to get away soon. She wanted to be alone when at last her facade broke and the tears came.

James raked his hands through his hair, losing patience now. "How do you bloody know what I want? _I _don't even know -."

"Then maybe that's the trouble, isn't it?" Lily reasoned. Then she sighed. "James, if you cared about how I felt at all, the way you claim to, you'd walk away right now."

James said nothing. His forehead wrinkled as he studied her face, considering her point.

When he still didn't respond, Lily said, "Fine. Guess that clears that up. I will."

"See you, Lily," James whispered. And for a moment, as he looked at her, his intense, ingenuous eyes resembled those of the old James, whose every aspect proclaimed that he loved her. Lily's breath caught, but he'd averted his gaze before she could interpret it.

"Bye, James."

This time, when she turned to leave, James didn't hinder her. But something else did - thanks she felt she owed him, a loose end that she hadn't tied.

"Oh, and James?" she called tentatively.

"Yeah?" He looked up, his eyes hopeful.

Lily didn't know what he expected, but it probably wasn't what she was about to say. In spite of everything, she hated to disappoint him. "Thanks, by the way...for making sure we got back to the castle all right. I appreciate it. Honest."

His face fell, but he recovered enough to say, "Anytime."

She turned away for the final time. "Well, see you, then."

"Yeah."

And that was how they parted.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Here it is, the long-awaited (for some people) confrontation between James and Lily! Again I decided to post only half of what I'd originally intended to post, but I didn't think anyone would mind, so long as it meant a speedier update. If anyone would prefer longer chapters, though, let me know in a review and I'll be happy to oblige.

As always, constructive criticism is both welcome and appreciated, so please, please, please review!

The next chapter will (finally) include a new step, as well as Lily's thoughts on her conversation with James.

Lots of love,

AllIWannaDo


	8. Step 3: Eradicate James completely

Lily walked calmly, but purposefully, back to the common room. No sprinting necessary, as James wouldn't pursue her. Besides, she'd confronted the worst of her fears with regard to him. Now she was stronger, but emptier.

She knew now, more than when she first saw James with Analiese, that it was over between them.

James didn't love her. James didn't love her. James didn't love her.

Well, of course he didn't. She'd known that, hadn't she? After all, he broke up with her. But Lily had always blamed herself for that. She provoked it, she told herself. She pulled away, she withheld her heart. Never had she doubted that was James' reason for breaking up with her. Until now.

Maybe all along she'd been testing this theory, without knowing it, and now that it had been proven incorrect, there was nothing left to do but erase James from her life for good.

Maybe it hadn't been wrong to want to forget. Maybe she'd just gone about it the wrong way. Maybe, after she faced the pain, she could forget, now that she had conceived of a more permanent method of forgetting.

Not forgetting - _erasing_, Lily reiterated firmly. She would erase their relationship from history, if that's what she needed to do to be strong again. If James was her weakness, she would eradicate him completely.

_Step 3: Remove all traces of James Potter from your life. _

Then it would be as if it had never happened. None of it would have ever happened. Not that night at The Flaming Phoenix and not anything before or after it. Where would the proof be?

Unfortunately, she couldn't erase the memories - she wasn't stupid enough to attempt a memory charm, even if Charms was her best subject - but she could at least erase the physical evidence of those memories.

The dormitory was empty when she got there. Thankfully. She needed to be alone for this next step and she didn't feel like waiting until everyone left for dinner.

She sat on her bed, steeling herself for the task at hand, then leaned over and pulled a box from under the bed. The box, labeled simply "James," contained relics of their relationship: photographs of Lily and James together, gifts he'd given her, and letters he'd written her. She'd intended to toss the box and its contents into the fireplace, but out of consideration for her promise not to forego experiencing pain, she decided to revisit the memories first.

"Incendio," Lily breathed as she knelt at the hearth. The flames swayed in Lily's hard, determined eyes.

The pictures would be the first to go. After all, she couldn't burn James' gifts and letters with his photo counterparts watching, could she?

Her plan was to tear up each picture before feeding it to the flames. That would give her sufficient time to relive the memories, which she did now, one by one. She and James under a beach tree by the lake, her hands poised around his neck as if to strangle him and his tongue lolling out of his mouth as if she had. (The pose was Sirius' idea.) She and James on the roof of the astronomy tower, with snow glittering in their hair, on the lenses of James' glasses, around their heads, and in every crevice of their cloaks as they celebrated the last snow of the season by dancing in it. Lily curled in James' lap in an armchair by the fire, his fingers brushing her hair from her neck. (He'd always loved her hair. In quiet moments, such as when they were doing homework together, she'd feel him playing with it. She'd tell him to stop, but he never listened, and after a while she no longer noticed. She'd forget his hands in her hair like she forgot his presence; contentment would be all she'd feel.) In all of these pictures, the James was perpetually trying to kiss the Lily, but she rebuffed him, laughing, shielding her lips with her arms and hands.

At first Lily was all smiles, but then, as time passed, her face turned expressionless. Or confused. Or sad. James' smile stayed, but Lily's faded. She'd thought it would return if they broke up, but it hadn't. Perhaps it never would.

Finally, Lily reached the last photograph, realizing as she did so that she hadn't torn or burned any of them. She chose one at random and ripped it in halves, then in fourths, then in eighths, before violently flinging the pieces into the flames. A satisfied grin awoke on her face.

She'd not burned all of them yet, but one was a start.

Then her grin broke, and with it, her resolve. As she watched the fire consume the mini versions of herself and James - and with them, the memory that lived in the photograph - she relived the moment again and regretted its erasure. Panicking, she shouted, "Accio photograph!"

Immediately, the burning, blackened pieces of the photograph shot out of the fireplace, and unfortunately, right into Lily's hands. She yelped, dropping them onto the floor and stamping the flames out. When the paper had cooled enough to touch, she lifted it carefully, cradling the remaining scraps of the photograph in her hands. Apologizing silently for what she'd done - not only to the picture of her and James, but to the rug, which now bore an angry black scorch mark, like someone had stamped out a giant cigarette there.

And hating herself for her weakness, for her failure to complete this third step toward getting over James. Okay, so burning was out, but there were other ways of disposing of the artifacts of their relationship.

She set the box on the windowsill and heaved the window up. A cold December wind assailed her. Would it be forceful enough to carry off the photographs and letters? Lily fingered the bottom-right edge of the photograph. When at last she found the nerve to release it, the wind swept it up and carried it toward the Forbidden Forest, where it swirled above the trees, mingled with the falling snowflakes, and disappeared. **  
**

Lily repeated this exercise with the remaining shards of photograph, but when she reached the middle piece - the piece containing James - she couldn't bear to part with it. She stood with the last remnant of the photograph poised in the air, urging herself to let go, but she couldn't. His hazel eyes looked at her accusingly, seeming to ask, "But why?" It was a question she couldn't answer. After all, this James wasn't to blame for the current James' behavior, was he? Even closing her eyes didn't help: she felt him looking at her still. Her arms leaden with defeat, Lily shut and locked the window, abandoning her plan.

Her final idea was to drown the box in the lake, but it was December and the lake was already frozen. Instead she filled the bathtub with water, intending to dump the contents of the box into it. The paper would bloat and warp, the ink would run, and the photographs and letters would become unrecognizable and illegible, respectively. The gifts would dry, but Lily could worry about them later. It was an okay plan despite its flaws.

But when Lily knelt with the box, she again couldn't bring herself to destroy the photographs or the letters.

Lily stood and kicked the box, hard, across the room. It was time to accept defeat.

Maybe Lily couldn't remove all traces of her relationship with James Potter from her life, but she would rid herself of them nonetheless. She would banish them to the depths of her closet - for now - then, perhaps, to a more remote location. Lily knew a suitable place. **  
**

* * *

Early the next morning, when all but the ghosts and the birds of Hogwarts were still asleep, Lily crept down to the lake with her box and a shovel.

When she spotted the beech tree from the photograph of her and James - the one in which she'd pretended to strangle him - she lowered herself and her burdens to the ground. The air was frigid: in the brief time it took Lily to traverse the distance between the castle and the lake, her cheeks had turned pink and numb. Lily yearned to be in bed under the warmth of her covers instead of outside shivering in the early-morning air, but she had to do this now.

In the dim light cast by the barely risen sun, Lily cleared the snow from a patch of ground. With effort, she drove her shovel at the half-frozen earth, breaking what she could of it. Then she began to dig, pausing only to massage the feeling back into her fingers, as needed. When she'd dug a hole about three-feet deep, Lily rested the shovel against the tree and knelt beside her box.

She perused its contents for the last time, skipping the photographs, as she'd already looked at them. Some of the letters were nothing more than greetings or invitations, but Lily had saved them, anyway. _Sit with me at dinner tonight__, Green Eyes?...Thinking of you, Green Eyes. Wish me luck in the match against Slytherin tomorrow? I can't win unless I know you're cheering for me. You're my Felix Felicis...Almost done with that essay, Green Eyes? I need to see you soon. _He always called her "Green Eyes" in his letters. He loved her eyes nearly as much as he loved her hair. But Analiese had green eyes too.

After the letters came the gifts: a golden snitch in which James had carved "L.E. + J.P"; a stuffed giant squid he'd bought her on their first date in Hogsmeade ("Would you still rather go out with the giant squid? Here's your chance."); a green sweater he'd given her for Christmas, because it matched her eyes; and a bouquet of forget-me-not flowers (so that she would never forget him, and because lillies would have been too predictable and unoriginal), all dried now, but retaining their fragrance.

The flowers had had their intended effect: Lily never had and never would forget James. Instead she was burying him - and all of her memories of him - where he couldn't reach her anymore. True, she would continue to see James every day, but in this box was the James she loved.

Without further ado, Lily sealed the box, nestled it into the hole, and covered it with dirt. "Goodbye," she whispered. And cried. And cried. And cried.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the long overdue third step!

Please review, if you get a chance? I meant it when I said that I would be continuing this story regardless of the number of reviews I received, but I'd really appreciate some feedback, if only because it allows me to gauge whether people are enjoying the story and whether I'm doing a good job on it. As it is, I've only gotten one or two reviews, so I really have no idea how to proceed.

That being said, I'd like to extend a gigantic thank you to all of my readers, even those who haven't reviewed. It's been an honor for me to share this story with you.

Next up - more interactions between Lily and James and Lily and her friends, plus the fourth step, which should be a lot more fun than the previous three!

Lots of love,

AllIWannaDo


	9. Step 4: Make amends

As Lily snuck back into her dormitory, careful not to wake her roommates, she was startled by a determined rapping at the window. It was James' owl, Whisp, with a note clutched in her beak. Lily intended to burn the note as soon as Whisp had gone, but when the stubborn owl continued to stare willfully at her and peck at her window, Lily realized that she'd have to compose a reply.

She dug around in her pillowcase for a quill, ink, and parchment, ignoring the bird's impatient glare. On the parchment, she wrote:

_James,_

_Don't._

_- Lily_

Whisp seemed displeased with Lily, as though she were aware that Lily had responded to James' message without reading it, but she accepted the note and flew off nonetheless.

When the bird had vanished around Gryffindor Tower, Lily tossed James' letter into the fireplace without even breaking its seal. If she couldn't erase the old memories, at least she wouldn't make any new ones.

* * *

The Great Hall seemed quieter than usual when Lily arrived at breakfast later that morning. Emptier, too. At first, Lily assumed that most people had already finished breakfasting and left the Great Hall in favor of congregating outside of their first-period classrooms. (Lily _had_ slept later than usual, after all, on account of her early-morning excursion.) But when she glimpsed the sullen faces and untouched plates that dotted the room, Lily sensed that something more was transpiring. Whatever it was, the air was heavy with it.

"What's happened, Alice?" Lily whispered when she reached Gryffindor table. She didn't know why she whispered; it just seemed appropriate.

Alice looked up from the Transfiguration textbook she'd been poring over. "Another Muggle family's been killed. Relatives of a Ravenclaw first-year. Death Eaters," she whispered back hurriedly. She pointed to a headline in _The Daily Prophet_, which lay open between them.

Lily chewed her cinnamon muffin slowly as she scanned the article, more to distract herself from the gruesome details of the killings - a mother, a father, twin little girls, and a teenage boy, flayed alive, then burned - than to satisfy her now insignificant hunger. She avoided the pictures. The pictures always made the food rise in her stomach.

Any day now it could be_ her_ family the Death Eaters surprised in the night. _Her_ mum, _her_ dad, and _her_ sister - or what the Aurors could recover of them - on the front page of the paper. Each night that she slept safely in Gryffindor Tower could be the night that the Dark Mark materialized in the sky above her parents' house. **  
**

The fear evoked by the thought nearly strangled her.

"Is Dorcas' family acquainted with that girl's family, do you think?" Alice asked without preamble. The fear loosened its grip around Lily's neck. "The pure-blood side, I mean."

Lily swallowed. Bits of muffin scratched at her raw throat. "I don't think so. Then again, she doesn't talk much about her life outside of Hogwarts, does she?"

"Or her life _in_ Hogwarts, lately," Alice noted bitterly.

"True," Lily admitted. "But why do you ask?"

"She...acted strangely when she saw the pictures, is all." Alice shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but her eyes betrayed her concern.

"They're pretty gruesome pictures, Alice," Lily said, even though she still hadn't looked at them.

Alice winced. Evidently _she_ had looked at them. "I know, but...it was more than that. I'm sure of it. She...she was shaking, Lily. And she ran off immediately afterward."

"Maybe we can ask her about it in class," Lily suggested consolingly, though Dorcas had rarely appeared in class since the incident at The Flaming Phoenix.

Alice sighed. "If she's even in class, which is unlikely." Her face softened. "I'm worried about her, Lily. If she keeps skipping class, she's bound to either flunk out of school or get expelled."

Lily tried to smile. "Nah. According to her, she's far too brilliant to ever flunk out, remember?"

Alice smiled weakly in return. "I suppose." Her eyes drifted to her open textbook. "I think I'm going to head to class now. So much for revising for the Transfiguration exam..."

"You'll do fine," Lily assured her, though she wouldn't have bet more than a knut on it. Alice was a bright girl, but not the kind who could achieve high marks without revising.

And their coursework had become more difficult lately - even for Lily.

"I doubt it," Alice said with a grimace as she heaved her bag onto her shoulder. "But thanks. I'll see you this afternoon, Lily."

"See you."

Lily watched Frank join Alice in the doorway leading to the Entrance Hall. When Alice saw him, she dropped her bag clumsily and stumbled into his arms. Chuckling, he kissed her forehead and bent to retrieve her upended bag. Only when Frank had both Alice and her bag tucked snugly under his arm did the pair exit the hall together, their bodies so close they moved as one.

Lily felt grateful that Alice had Frank, if only because he gave her best friend the physical comfort that Lily was often incapable of - or perhaps uncomfortable with - giving her. Alice needed it. That heart of hers was just too big.

The crowd in the Great Hall continued to thin. Soon it would be time for Lily to slump off to class with the other stragglers. She took a sip of pumpkin juice, wishing it were orange juice, and considered Dorcas' recent odd behavior, beginning with her coffee-drinking and ending with her uncharacteristic reaction to the _Prophet _article.

If Dorcas had no relationship to that family - and Lily was almost certain that she didn't - then what could have inspired such an extreme reaction to their deaths? The circumstances of their deaths were horrifying, yes, and the photographs were undoubtedly gory, but it wasn't as though Dorcas hadn't seen their like before. The _Prophet _reported attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns weekly, sometimes daily, and like the rest of the wizarding world, Dorcas had learned to bear it.

And unlike Lily, she didn't have to worry about herself or her family being targeted: she was pure-blood, so unless she advertised her tolerance of Muggles and Muggle-borns, she would be left alone.

Besides, even if she did pity the dead or fear that she or her family members would soon be counted among them, it was unlike her to show it.

So what was wrong with her?

And more importantly, why wouldn't she let Lily and Alice fix it?

Lily hoped that McGonagall had written less cryptic questions for the exam.

* * *

Dorcas wasn't in class that day - or the next - but Lily was too preoccupied with homework and the prospect of resuming her Head duties to ponder her friend's absence. She and James had to schedule a Prefect meeting before next week; she still hadn't forgotten. They'd have to set aside time to patrol, as well - preferably separately. Much as Lily loved Dorcas, fulfilling her academic obligations was her first priority at the moment.

Lily had planned to spend that evening in the library, but when she found her dormitory empty yet again, she collapsed onto her bed with her books. Studying in bed was more comfortable than studying in the library any day.

Which may have been the problem, for Lily had not read more than a paragraph in her Divination textbook when her eyes fluttered shut in the middle of a sentence about prophecies.

She woke, flinching, to a gentle pressure on her shoulder.

"Oh, I am sorry! Did I startle you? I thought perhaps you would want to be woken, so that you would not sleep all night."

"Right," Lily croaked. She massaged her eyelids, coaxing herself awake. When she opened her eyes again, she registered the face of her roommate, Vidya.

"I have not seen you for quite a while, Lily. How are you?" Vidya asked in her perfectly enunciated, contraction-less English, a product of her annual summer holiday to India.

Lily smiled groggily. "I'm okay. Busy, tired...but otherwise okay. How about you?"

Vidya's deep-set black eyes studied Lily in a way that made her feel as transparent as glass. It was unsettling. Lily was relieved when Vidya blinked and her tinkling laugh chimed. "Oh, you know. I read." Turning to her bed, she added, "Dorcas was here while you were asleep."

Lily froze. _How did she - ? _But then, Vidya always seemed able to intuit things she hadn't been told. "Oh? Did you talk to her?"

Vidya nodded, sitting delicately on her bed. "Yes. Briefly." She settled back on her pillows and flipped to a page in one of her books. Lily guessed from the rapid back-and-forth movement of her eyes that she was reading. "She is out drinking now."

"Did she tell you that?" Lily was surprised - and a bit hurt - that Dorcas had confided her plans to Vidya when she and Alice were repeatedly given the old Quidditch practice excuse.

Vidya paused in her reading but didn't answer. Lily was going to repeat the question when Vidya said, "No. She had a cup of coffee. She drinks coffee in preparation for a night of heavy drinking."

"Oh." Did she? Lily had never made the connection. In fact, she wasn't entirely convinced there was one. As Lily recalled, Dorcas had been going out drinking for years, but not until the previous Friday had Lily seen her with a cup of coffee in hand.

Then again, she hadn't gone into Hogsmeade with such frequency until...until this term. And now she was chugging coffee practically every morning, which meant that - oh, Merlin, what if Vidya was right?

"Dorcas believes that caffeine dulls the effects of the alcohol." Vidya peeked at Lily over the top of her book. "I am surprised you did not know."

_You shouldn't be_, thought Lily. _I'm a terrible friend._

"Thank you, Vidya."

"You are welcome, Lily." She returned to her book, leaving Lily to thrash around in her guilt.

How long had Dorcas been drinking coffee on days she planned to go out drinking? How long had her drinking problem, which must have resulted from other, more severe problems, been escalating? How long had Lily failed to notice? Why had it taken her until now to feel the concern for her friend that Alice had felt since last Friday, and maybe even before that?

Once Lily's friends had meant the world to her. Perhaps they still did, but the affection she exhibited barely seemed equal to a few continents.

Lily had been neglecting her friends since James broke up with her - since James asked her out, really. Lily, who had once scoffed at girls who abandoned their friends when a bloke entered their lives, had become their leader. Disgusting; she was disgusting.

Granted, she'd had school and other obligations to attend to, as well, which partly justified her neglect of her friends, but James was the primary reason for it, so Lily was still a deplorable human being.

Dorcas was running from something, and Lily had been too absorbed in herself to notice. But no more. From now on, she would be a better friend - not just to Dorcas, but to Alice, Mary, and even Vidya. She would identify the cause of Dorcas' increased drinking, and save her from it (save her from herself, more like). She would be the kind of friend that Alice was. The kind of friend that she herself used to be.

Step 4, Lily observed, would be the first step that helped others as well as herself. _Step 4: Acknowledge your shortcomings and make amends to all of the people who have been harmed as a result of them. _

* * *

_**A/N:**_There you have it: the fourth step, which should've been the fifth. Which is why this step wasn't as much fun as promised. But the next one will be, you'll see.

As always, reviews and/or constructive criticism are both welcome and appreciated.

Lots of love,

AllIWannaDo


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